“I am sorry for what I did,” he said. “For letting them make me do it.”

“You did what you had to do to protect yourself, and then you helped us fix it,” I said. “That is what matters.”

“I love you, Claire,” he said.

“I love you too, Dad,” I replied before hanging up.

On the third week, a courier arrived with a thick manila envelope.

Alexander and I sat at the wooden dining table to open it.

Inside were the official court documents restoring our marriage certificate.

The state of New York had recognized our original union.

The record of Julian’s fraudulent marriage to Victoria was declared null and void.

I ran my fingers over the raised gold seal on the document.

“Claire Donovan and Alexander Whitmore,” I read aloud.

“It is official,” Alexander said, smiling.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Inside was the platinum wedding band he had given me two years ago, which I had been forced to hide in the back of my jewelry box.

He took my hand and slid the ring back onto my finger.