Chapter 3

The next morning, I retreated to a coffee shop three blocks away. I needed caffeine, and more importantly, I needed to be somewhere that didn't smell like Emilio's cologne.

I was stirring sugar into my black coffee when a shadow fell over the table.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up. It was Hayden.

She didn't wait for an answer. She pulled out the chair and sat down, dropping a designer handbag on the table with a heavy thud. She looked radiant, glowing with the smug victory of a woman who knew she had won the long game.

"What do you want?" I asked, gripping my spoon until my knuckles turned white.

"I just wanted to clear the air," she said, signaling a waiter without looking at him. "A latte. Skim milk. And bring a cookie for Leo, he's in the car with the nanny."

She turned her gaze back to me. It was predatory.

"Emilio is very upset, you know. He hates conflict."

"He hates getting caught," I corrected.

Hayden laughed softly. "You really don't know him at all, do you? You think you're the victim here. But Elana... you were the interloper."

"I'm his wife."

"You're his nurse," she countered, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. The mask slipped for a second. "Remember when he proposed? In the hospital?"

I froze. "How do you know that?"

"He called me right after," she said, leaning in. "He was crying. He told me you looked so frail, so pathetic. The doctors said you might not make it through the winter. He didn't want you to die alone. He has a savior complex, Elana. He proposed because he pitied you."

The room tilted. My breath hitched in my throat.

The proposal. The candles in the sterile room. The way he held my hand and said I want to take care of you forever.

"He told me," Hayden continued, inspecting her manicured nails as if this were casual gossip, "that he loved me, but he couldn't leave a dying woman. So we made a deal. I would wait. I would give him Leo, and he would give you... comfort. Until the end."

"You're lying," I whispered. But the sickness in my gut told me she wasn't. It explained everything. The distance. The hesitation to have children with me. He was waiting for me to die so he could replace me with her.

But I didn't die. I got better. I got strong. And that ruined their plan.

"He bought us the house in the Hamptons while you were in physical therapy," she said casually. "He was with me for Leo's first steps. He told you he was at a merger in Tokyo. He was actually holding my hand while I got a tattoo of his name."

She pulled down the collar of her blouse. There, on her collarbone, was a delicate script: Emilio.

"Stop," I said. I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me. "I don't want to hear this."

"Why? Does the truth hurt?" She smiled. "He loves me, Elana. He loves our son. You're just... paperwork. An obligation that refused to expire."

People in the coffee shop were staring. I felt stripped naked, flayed open for their amusement.

The bell above the door chimed.

"Elana?"

Emilio stood there. He looked disheveled, his tie crooked. He looked from me to Hayden, and panic flashed in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Hayden, his voice tight.

"Just having a chat with your wife," Hayden cooed. "Telling her about the baptism. You know, the one you missed her award ceremony for?"

Emilio flinched. He looked at me, pleading. "Elana, don't listen to her. She's just... she's emotional."

"Emotional?" I laughed, but it sounded like a sob. "She just told me our marriage was a hospice waiting room. Is that true, Emilio? Did you marry me because you thought I was going to die?"

Emilio opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down.

Silence.

That silence was a guillotine.

"I..." he started. "I cared about you, Elana. I didn't want you to suffer."

"You didn't want to look like the bad guy who dumped a sick girl," I said. "So you married me. And then you fucked her."

"It's not that simple!" he shouted.

"It is exactly that simple."

I grabbed my bag. "I'm leaving. I'm going to the lawyer."

"No!" Emilio lunged forward. "You can't just leave! We need to talk about this!"

"There is nothing to talk about!"

I tried to push past him. Hayden stood up, blocking my path.

"Let him speak, Elana. Don't be a bitch."

"Get out of my way," I said through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" Hayden sneered. "You're barren anyway. Emilio told me. You can't give him what I gave him. You're useless."

The sheer cruelty of it knocked the wind out of me.

I looked at Emilio. He didn't defend me. He didn't tell her to shut up. He just looked tired.

"I'm done," I said.

I shoved past Hayden. She stumbled back, crying out theatrically.

"Emilio! She pushed me!"

I burst out the door into the blinding sunlight. The air outside tasted of exhaust fumes and freedom.

"Elana!" Emilio called after me.

I didn't stop. I walked toward the intersection.

"From today," I muttered to the rhythm of my heels striking the pavement, "I live for myself."