The year I was eight, I was held captive and tormented for three days to save young Garrett Sinclair. The trauma left me with severe prosopagnosia—face blindness. He had tied the blue silk cord I gave him around his wrist, his eyes red-rimmed as he promised: “Sloane, I’ll wear this forever. That way, no matter where I go, you’ll always be able to find me.” For over a decade, that flash of blue had been the only steady light in my dark, visually confusing world. Until the night before our wedding, when I overheard him talking to his friends. “Garrett, you really pulled out all the stops to get close to Willow. I mean, what about Sloane Kingsley? If she ever figures out the person she’s been sleeping with isn’t you, but her adopted brother… she’ll lose it, man.” Garrett swirled the glass in his hand, his voice a casual, effortless dismissal. “She only recognizes the blue cord. She’ll never notice.” “To be the blissfully ignorant Mrs. Sinclair for life? That’s her good fortune.” 1 I froze. Every muscle went cold. Willow Blackwood was my most trusted friend. Devon, my adopted brother, was the only family member who had painstakingly raised me, treating me like the most precious thing in the world. Garrett was the single star in my pitch-black universe. Yet, I had been living inside their perfect lie all along, unable to even recognize the face of the man in my own bed. His friend spoke again, a note of sympathy in his voice. “It’s a shame you and Willow are soulmates, but you’re stuck by this debt of gratitude. Gotta keep the affair underground.” “Thank God Devon Kingsley is covering for you. It’s the only way you can be with Willow while she gets through her pregnancy.” Willow… was pregnant? The pain already constricting my heart was brutally sliced open again. Someone else chimed in, curious. “So, G, you’re really going through with marrying Sloane?” Garrett frowned. “It’s just a name, a gesture to settle a debt. The heir to the Sinclair fortune will only ever be Willow’s child. Don’t get the wrong idea.” “As for Sloane, I’ll make damn sure she never gets pregnant with my child.” I was trembling, the ultrasound photo crumpled in my white-knuckled hand, my mind a blank void. Two months ago, Garrett had promised to be there for my birthday, but he was late. I was blowing out the candles alone when he finally wrapped his arms around me from behind. He presented me with a massive bouquet of ‘Shattered Ice Blue’ roses, his voice low and husky as he apologized for the delay, claiming he’d been collecting the rare flowers. That night, he’d been drunk, and we were intimate until morning. My nerves and frantic inexperience had made me overlook a crucial detail: Garrett was severely allergic to pollen. Now, the truth was blinding. He never could have sent those flowers. After that ‘accident,’ I hadn’t been able to keep food down. I’d gone to the doctor today, only to learn I was pregnant. My heart was bursting with shy happiness, and I’d rushed here, desperate to tell him the surprise. Instead, I had stumbled onto this visceral, gut-wrenching truth. So, this child… I didn’t dare finish the thought, a shiver running through me. What kind of monsters had I been living with, day in and day out? I stuffed the prenatal scan back into my purse, unable to listen anymore, and turned to walk away.
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