Chapter 3

I needed air, real air, not the perfumed, cloying atmosphere of the party.

I slipped out the service door into an alley, the stench of bins a welcome change.

My phone buzzed. Elizabeth.

"Liv, it's worse than we thought," she said, no preamble. "He's the father. Paternity confirmed. He leased a condo for her in Westwood months ago. He's been living a double life."

Each word was a hammer blow.

Just then, I heard voices approaching from inside, near the service door. Michael's voice.

"...don't worry, Richard, Liv's just being emotional. You know, pregnancy hormones."

Richard, one of Michael's oldest friends, someone who had been an usher at our wedding.

"Still, man, for her to see you here... that's rough," Richard said, a hint of discomfort in his tone.

Michael laughed, a low, dismissive sound.

"She'll get over it. She always does. Liv loves me too much to ever actually leave. Besides, where would she go? She needs me."

My blood ran cold.

The callousness, the absolute certainty in his voice.

He truly believed I was his possession, a predictable doll who would cry and then forgive.

"And Serena?" Richard asked.

"Serena understands the situation. She's patient. She knows I'll handle Liv."

Handle me. Like I was a problem to be managed.

I pressed myself against the brick wall, the rough surface digging into my back.

The disgust was a physical thing, rising in my throat.

He wasn't just deceitful. He was contemptuous.

He thought I was weak.

He thought my love for him was a chain he could use to bind me forever.

The despair was a heavy weight, crushing my chest.

He had no idea.