Chapter 1 - THE SEAT THAT WASN’T MINE ANYMORE
The first sign that my husband had replaced me came ten minutes before my daughter's wedding dinner.
It wasn't the woman in the red dress.
It wasn't the way my husband, Richard, kept glancing toward her whenever he thought I wasn't looking.
It was my chair.
I stood at the entrance of the ballroom, holding my small black handbag, and stared at the place where I was supposed to sit.
My name card was gone.
In its place was another.
CELIA MARSH.
For a moment, I thought there had been a mistake.
Then I saw Richard.
He was standing beside the woman in the red silk dress.
Celia.
His mistress.
She touched his arm and whispered something into his ear.
He smiled.
My husband hadn't smiled at me like that in years.
Across the ballroom, my daughter, Emily, stood in her white wedding gown.
She looked beautiful.
She was laughing with her new husband, Daniel.
Then she noticed me.
Her smile disappeared.
I knew immediately that she understood.
I walked toward Richard.
“Where is my seat?”
He didn't even look embarrassed.
“Margaret, don't make a scene.”
“My name card was here.”
“I had it moved.”
“You had it moved?”
Celia lowered her eyes as if she were uncomfortable.
That performance hurt more than anything.
Richard gestured toward her.
“Celia is my guest.”
I stared at him.
“I am your wife.”
He sighed.
“For tonight, can you just behave?”
I looked at the empty chair beside him.
There was another chair several feet away.
Near the service door.
No name card.
No place setting.
Nothing.
“You gave my seat to her.”
Richard's voice became colder.
“She deserves to be here.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“More than me?”
He didn't answer.
That was the answer.
Then someone behind us gasped.
The ballroom suddenly went quiet.
I turned.
An elderly woman had dropped her champagne glass.
And beside her stood the groom's father.
Nathaniel Blackwood.
Everyone in the city knew his name.
Blackwood Capital.
Blackwood Foundation.
Blackwood Hotels.
He was the kind of man whose phone calls could change the fate of companies.
But he wasn't looking at Richard.
He wasn't looking at Celia.
He was looking directly at me.
His face had gone completely pale.
He slowly walked across the ballroom.
People moved aside.
When he reached me, he stopped.
His eyes searched my face.
Then he whispered four words that made my entire world tilt.
“I've finally found you.”
I stared at him.
“I’m sorry?”
Nathaniel Blackwood looked as if he had seen a ghost.
Then he turned toward my daughter.
“Emily.”
She approached nervously.
“Yes?”
Nathaniel pointed at me.
“Your mother.”
“Yes.”
He looked back at me.
“Margaret?”
My heart stopped.
Nobody had called me that way in decades.
Only one person had.
My father.
Before he died.
Nathaniel's eyes filled with tears.
“You don't remember me?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Then we have a lot to talk about.”
Richard stepped forward.
“Nathaniel, I think there's been some confusion.”
Nathaniel turned.
His expression became ice.
“No.”
Richard froze.
“There is no confusion.”
Nathaniel looked at Celia.
Then at Richard.
Then back at me.
“You gave this woman your wife's seat?”
Richard said nothing.
Nathaniel smiled without warmth.
“Interesting.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Cancel the Blackwood contract with Sterling Industries.”
Richard's face went white.
“What?”
“Effective immediately.”
“You can't do that.”
“I just did.”
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
I stood there, stunned.
Nathaniel leaned toward me.
“Margaret, twenty-eight years ago, I promised your father I would find you.”
I stared at him.
“My father?”
Nathaniel nodded.
“And I have spent twenty-eight years keeping that promise.”
Before I could ask another question, the music stopped.
Emily looked at me.
Her eyes were full of confusion.
Richard looked terrified.
And Celia suddenly stopped smiling.
Because whatever secret Nathaniel Blackwood had carried for twenty-eight years—
May you like
it had something to do with me.
And apparently, my husband was terrified that the truth would finally come out.
