“I walked into my own mansion expecting my wife to run into my arms, but instead I found my family celebrating my money while the woman I loved was missing.

Emma looked toward the hallway, where distant voices moved through the house.

“When you walked into the outdoor kitchen,” she said, “

I felt relief. And then I felt afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of hope.”

That hurt more than blame.

She folded her arms around herself.

“Hope asks a lot from someone who has been disappointed,” she said. “It asks you to risk believing again.”

I nodded.

“I’ll earn what I can.”

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she reached out and placed the photograph in my hand.

“Help me find out who she was,” she said.

I held Clara’s picture carefully.

“I will.”

“No,” Emma said. “Not as a rescue. As my husband.”Get Marriage Tips

My throat tightened.

“As your husband,” I said.