After Destroying My Life with His Own Hands, He Learned I Was His Benefactor

On our wedding night, Jackson Simmons was called away by an urgent work call. He didn't come back until noon the next day.

He looked at the food I'd reheated over and over, then collapsed onto the couch, his voice worn thin.

'Camila Stewart, that wasn't a work call last night. It was your stepsister.'

'I was with her the whole night. She's a lot better in bed than you are. We had a wonderful time.'

My hand jerked.

The soup I'd just ladled from the clay pot spilled all over.

In an instant it scalded the skin off the top of my foot, and yet I felt no pain at all.