Chapter 2

"Leukemia," I repeated, my voice devoid of any emotion I felt.

Disgust was a cold, hard knot in my gut.

Savi nodded, fresh tears welling. "Yes, Ethan. It's terrible. We only found out recently. He's been so brave."

Caleb offered a pained smile in my direction.

"I understand this is a shock, Ethan," Savi said, her tone softening, trying to draw me into her drama. "But please, try to have some compassion. This is for Caleb. It changes nothing for you and me, not really."

"It changes everything, Savi."

My words were quiet, but they cut through her performance.

"You lied to me. You married him."

"It's not a real marriage!" she insisted, her voice rising. "It's symbolic! For a dying man!"

I looked at Caleb, then back at Savi.

The charade was sickening.

"I want you to leave," I said.

Savi's face hardened. "What? Ethan, don't be like this. Don't be so selfish. Caleb needs support, we both do."

"I'm moving out, Savi. Today."

The shock on her face was genuine this time.

"Moving out? Don't be ridiculous! Over this? Because I showed a dying man some kindness? Where is your heart, Ethan?"

Her voice dripped with accusation, her eyes flashing.

"You lack compassion, Ethan Miller! After everything! You'd abandon me now, when I'm dealing with so much?"

She was actually trying to make me the villain.

"You'll regret this, Ethan," she hissed, her carefully constructed sympathy vanishing. "You have no idea what you're throwing away."

A threat. Classic Savi when she didn't get her way.

"Get out," I said again, stepping back and closing the door on their stunned faces.

I started packing immediately.

Not much to take from the guesthouse, mostly clothes and my personal tech.

The life I'd built here felt like a sham, a carefully decorated stage set.

My mind replayed memories, not the recent, tainted ones, but earlier.

College. Savi, vibrant and seemingly genuine, before the full weight of her Monroe legacy settled on her.

Me, a scholarship kid, fascinated by her world, by her.

I remembered turning down that job in Austin, a research position at a leading AI firm, my dream.

Savi had cried, said she couldn't do long distance, that Houston had opportunities for me at Monroe Oil & Gas.

Her father needed someone with my software skills, she'd said.

It was a step down professionally, a detour from my geophysics software ambitions, but I did it for her. For "us."

I'd designed their proprietary geological survey software, the one that was now the cornerstone of their exploration division.

The one PetroCorp International was so keen on.

I'd poured years into that relationship, into that company, believing Savi was as committed as I was.

But looking back, the signs of erosion were there.

Her increasing focus on image, on parties, on what people thought.

Her casual dismissal of my work, my background.

Caleb's growing influence, always whispering in her ear, flattering her, isolating her from anyone who might offer a different perspective.

He'd played on her insecurities, her entitlement, her need for constant validation.

And she'd let him.

The marriage certificate wasn't a sudden betrayal.

It was the culmination of a long, slow drift, a final, undeniable act of contempt.