Chapter 3

The gala photos, Chloe's office, her taunts – it all swirled in my head. I felt like I was drowning.

When Ethan came back from San Francisco, I confronted him.

"An office for your mistress? Next to yours? Paid for by the company I helped build?"

He had the audacity to look annoyed.

"Sarah, you're being hysterical. Chloe is a consultant. It's perfectly legitimate."

"Legitimate?" I screamed. "She's carrying your child! You flaunted her at a public event!"

"I told you, it's for the company's image!" he shot back. "And my legacy! Why can't you be more understanding? You're making this so difficult."

Understanding. He wanted me to understand his public humiliation of me.

My eyes fell on a framed photo on his desk – one from the gala, him and Chloe, radiant.

I snatched it up and smashed it against the wall. Glass shattered.

"You're acting crazy!" Ethan yelled, grabbing my arm, his fingers digging in.

Just then, Chloe walked in, unannounced. She took one look at the scene, at Ethan holding my arm, and her eyes widened.

"Ethan, darling, what's happening?" she cried, clutching her stomach. "She... she pushed me!"

She stumbled dramatically, a small whimper escaping her lips.

"I didn't touch her!" I yelled, yanking my arm free from Ethan's grasp.

Ethan rushed to Chloe's side, all concern. "Are you okay? The baby?"

Chloe leaned into him, tears welling in her eyes. "I think so. But she was so angry... I was scared."

Ethan turned on me, his face contorted with fury.

"Look what you did! You could have hurt her! Hurt my child!"

"She's lying, Ethan!"

"Apologize to her, Sarah," he demanded, his voice cold. "Now."

Apologize. To the woman who destroyed my marriage, who was trying to steal my life.

Something inside me snapped.

The years of sacrifice, the pain, the humiliation – it all erupted.

I lunged, not at Chloe, but at the expensive vase on a nearby pedestal, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Get out!" I shrieked, the sound raw, torn from my throat. "Both of you, get out!"

Ethan shielded Chloe, looking at me like I was a monster.

"You've lost your mind," he said, disgust lacing his voice. "I'm calling security."

He actually reached for his phone.

Chloe smirked behind him, a flicker of triumph in her eyes.

That was it. The breaking point.

I turned, walked to my purse, and pulled out my own phone.

My fingers, shaking, dialed a number I hadn't called in years.

My father. Richard Miller.

"Dad," I choked out, tears finally streaming down my face. "I need you."