Savannah's POV
The sight that greeted me when I stepped into the kitchen made my world tilt sideways. Jonathan had Ethel pressed against the marble countertop, both of them drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, their breathing heavy and labored.
My heart plummeted into my stomach like a stone dropped into deep water.
At last, someone I thought was on my side. How naive I had been to believe such foolishness.
The reality hit me with brutal clarity as I watched my husband's hands gripping my best friend against the very counter where I prepared countless meals for our hollow marriage. The woman I had nursed back to health after her own husband's betrayal had turned around and delivered the same devastating blow to me.
Though perhaps I was being dramatic. Jonathan had never truly belonged to me anyway. Our marriage was a business transaction dressed up in white silk and empty vows. He had never looked at me with anything resembling love or even basic affection.
