He Read My Love Letters and Thanked Her (Her Goodbye, His Reckoning #1)

I wrote the love letters that kept my husband alive. On our anniversary, he read one aloud, looked at his first love—and thanked her.

Lena

For five years, I believed Theo knew the truth. I believed he knew that when pain nearly broke him, the words that pulled him through were mine.

I was wrong.

At our anniversary dinner, his first love sat across from us and accepted every bit of his gratitude. When I finally said, “She didn’t write that letter. I did,” my husband didn’t take my hand.

He told me to sit down.

I had tiny baby socks hidden in my bag. I had planned to tell him we were finally going to have a child.

Instead, I packed a suitcase and left.

Now I’m done begging to be believed. I’m taking back my work, my name, and the right to decide who gets access to me—and to the baby growing inside me.

Theo

I chose an old memory over my wife. Another woman lied, but I was the one who humiliated Lena in front of my family. I was the one who let her walk away alone.

Learning the truth doesn’t erase what I did.

Neither does being sorry.

If I want even the smallest chance of getting my wife back, I have to correct the lie where I helped spread it, respect every boundary she sets, and prove I can love her without trying to control her.

She doesn’t owe me forgiveness.

This time, I’ll have to earn every yes.