Chapter 3

The devastation was a hollow ache in my chest.

But with it came a cold, sharp anger.

The wedding would go on.

Oh yes, it would.

But it wouldn' t be their celebration. It would be mine.

My grand exit. My public severance.

A few days later, hiding in the pantry of our nearly-marital home to retrieve some documents I needed, I overheard them.

Ethan and Chloe, in the living room.

His voice was low, laced with a regret I' d never heard him direct at me.

"I should have fought for you, Chloe. God, I regret it every day."

Chloe' s voice, soft, cloying. "It's not too late, Ethan. We can still be together."

Then Ethan said the words that branded themselves onto my soul.

"I stay with Ava because... sometimes, when the light hits her just right, she has a hint of you in her eyes."

A substitute. A faint echo.

My breath hitched. I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle a gasp.

Chloe giggled, a smug, triumphant sound.

"Oh, Ethan. You always knew how to flatter me. Did you know, the wedding venue? The one Ava thinks she picked? That was my dream spot. I told you about it years ago."

My engagement ring, a classic solitaire, flashed on my finger.

"And this ring style," Chloe continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I showed you a picture of one just like it. You said it was perfect."

Even my wedding shoes.

Designer, exquisite, and a size too small. They pinched my feet mercilessly every time I tried them on.

"Those shoes Ava keeps complaining about?" Chloe' s voice was laced with amusement. "My size, darling. I mentioned wanting a pair just like them."

The beautiful, painful shoes.

I went back to my apartment that night, pulled the shoes from their silk bag, and threw them into the trash with a satisfying thud.

Each item, each plan, a monument to his deception.

My resolve hardened.