I woke up the morning after my wedding feeling happier and more certain about my future than I ever had before. Within minutes, that certainty was replaced by a rush of fear.
The things between my fingers were small, cold, and definitely not a hotel key card.
I stood frozen beside the armchair in our suite, a hotel robe knotted at my waist, my heart beating loudly in my chest. Ian was still buried under the duvet three feet away, one bare arm flung across the pillow I’d slept on.
