I never believed in fate. That was something for the dreamers, the romantics, not someone as practical and pragmatic as I.

Fate had nothing to do with me walking in on my soon-to-be husband in a compromising position with his secretary.

Fate had nothing to do with me hopping on a plane to Rome, effectively standing up my former fiance on our wedding day.

And fate certainly had nothing to do with the handsome stranger sitting across the aisle from me, one who would open my mind and heart to things I never thought possible.

Because if fate is real, if fate is pulling the strings, if fate is in charge of each person's destiny, she's cruel and unforgiving.

Why would fate want me to experience a connection as I never had in my life, only to remind me it's fleeting? Why would fate give me everything I never knew I always wanted? Why would fate let me have a taste, then crush those dreams?

He could never be mine. I could never be his. And his deception may just be my breaking point.

Contains mature themes.