Chapter 2

Three days.

Three days of silence, then his predictable move.

A bouquet of roses arrived at my temporary hotel room, the generic kind he always sent.

Red. I hated red roses. Sunflowers were my favorite, a fact he'd forgotten or never cared to remember.

The card just said, "Sorry. M."

Later, he called.

His voice was casual, like we'd had a small spat, nothing more.

"Hey," he said. "Feeling better?"

I didn't answer.

"Look, Chloe's throwing a little thank you dinner for me tonight. At The Gilded Spoon. 8 PM. She really wants you to be there."

A thank you dinner. For him. Hosted by her.

And I was invited as an afterthought.

"I'm not going, Mark."

"Sarah, come on. Don't make this a bigger deal than it is. Chloe feels terrible you were upset."

She felt terrible? Or she enjoyed the drama?

"I already told you, Mark. We're done."

A sigh on his end. "We can talk tonight. Just come to the dinner."

He didn't get it. He never got it.

But a small, foolish part of me, the part that still remembered why I'd fallen for him, wanted to see if there was any flicker of understanding.

So, I went. A mistake.

The Gilded Spoon was trendy, loud.

Chloe was already there, seated next to Mark in a cozy booth.

She wore a soft, pale blue dress, looking delicate. A small, almost invisible bandage was on her ankle.

"Sarah! I'm so glad you came!" she chirped, her smile wide.

Mark stood up, a little awkwardly. "Hey."

I sat opposite them.

"I wanted to explain," Chloe began, her voice earnest. "About the other day. I'd sprained my ankle earlier that morning, a silly fall. When the explosion happened, I just panicked. Mark knew I wouldn't be able to get down the stairs quickly on my own."

A sprained ankle. That was his excuse.

Mark was already ordering for her. "She'll have the lavender spritzer, and the pan-seared scallops."

He didn't ask her. He didn't ask me what I wanted.

He fussed over Chloe, making sure her chair was comfortable, that she had enough water.

I felt like I was watching them through a glass wall.

Chloe then turned to me, her expression full of concern. "Mark, you should apologize to Sarah properly. She was very scared."

He looked at me, a practiced expression of remorse. "Sarah, I am sorry. I should have checked on you. It was chaotic."

It sounded rehearsed. Empty.

"It's fine," I said, pushing my water glass around. There was no point.