He walked into my life, turned it upside down, and then walked out.
Nine months later, I gave birth to our child. I thought I’d never see him again.
I was wrong.
He’s back, and intent on wrecking all my careful planning. Again.
I want him to leave me alone.
But one lopsided grin on that devastatingly handsome face, and I’m reduced to his bedroom plaything once more.
I’m caught in his vortex; my life being shredded apart with every inch closer I get to him.
So why aren’t I resisting harder?
He’s my disaster, and I can’t look away.
