It doesn't mean shit.
I lost my husband hours after I married him, hours after we'd just promised each other the world and said "I do." I was Mrs.Tyler West in a gorgeous white gown one day, and a sobbing widow in black the very next.
It's been four years and I can still feel that raw and painful emptiness in my chest. Especially since I know who was responsible for the tragedy: Luca Jensen. The best man.
I've always hated the fact that he survived and was relieved when he left town amidst all the rumors...
But now he's back.
To explain. To see me. To try to change how I feel about him, in more ways than one.
He thinks I'm going to listen, that I'm going to let him walk back into my life as if he wasn't the very one who tore it apart. He thinks I don't know the whole story, and that I've been living a lie.
Even if that is the case, I'd much rather cope with my deceptive memories, than embrace the unspeakable truths...