I was pregnant. But my husband, Samuel Wilson, insisted he was infertile, and declared the child I carried was nothing but a disgraceful mistake. What he didn't know was that the accident years ago stole more than just his ability to have children, but it took part of his memory as well. His trusted mistress used that truth to spin a web of lies that lasted three long years, dragging both of us straight into hell. When I finally returned with the whole truth in my hands, he woke up from his delusion, only to realize it was already too late. "Samuel Wilson, you trusted the wrong person and loved the wrong woman. Now take your regrets with you and rot in hell."