Boston Mother Cancels Twenty Two Million Dollar Wedding Gift After Morning Betrayal
“It will grow back,” I said, touching the soft silver edge of the wig where it met my temple. “In a few weeks, it will be long enough to style without Lucia’s help.”
“You are a very strong woman,” Avery said, closing the red leather binder with a soft thud.
“I am a tired woman, Avery,” I said.
We walked into the quiet foyer, our footsteps echoing on the black and white marble tiles.
The grandfather clock in the corner showed ten minutes past midnight, its brass pendulum swinging behind the glass.
Avery stopped near the front door, holding his leather briefcase in one hand.
“I will need the binder to file the changes with the court in the morning, Beatrice,” Avery said.
I looked down at the red leather cover, feeling the finality of the weight in my hands.
I handed the signed red binder back to Avery.
Three weeks later, the steam from the master bathroom shower cleared to reveal a face I was finally beginning to recognize.
I leaned close to the silver-framed mirror, turning my head to the left to inspect the growth.
