CHAPTER 8Loose Ends
HIS COMPLEXION WAS GRAY, his shoulders were hunched over, and he sat there like a little old man. It was the first time in two years I’d seen Martin outside of a courtroom, and I was shocked at how he looked. Everything about his demeanor signaled unhappiness. Despite the nastiness of our trial, my heart sank and I felt a wave of compassion. I could never be with Martin again, but I’d never stopped caring.
We were meeting at Windsong. Martin was packing the place up and putting everything, including my belongings, into storage because he was going to live on a newly acquired megayacht based in Monte Carlo.
Days before, with a fractured soul and no clue about how I’d be received, I’d called Martin, thinking we needed to talk ...
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