Claire Dan- Anderson’s POV
Inside the lecture hall, I don’t hear a single word that the woman at the front speaks. I see her mouth moving, her hands lifting occasionally, the slide behind her changing once, twice. None of it lands. Her voice might as well be snowfall.
All I can think about is Jeremy. My husband.
About the way he hovered over my bed, shadows and warmth and intent, the way his mouth found mine like it already belonged there. About the weight of his hand on my back, pulling me closer to his body, so certain. The way he kissed me in the pool house. About the ring on my finger now, heavy enough that I keep noticing it, as that finger never had a ring on it before today.
Absentminded, I twist the ring, its stone catching the light. It’s expensive but quietly so. Nothing fla
