Chapter 2

"Dr. Carter said it will be a long road, sweetheart," Sarah said a few days later, stroking Ava' s hair in the hospital bed. "Months of recovery, maybe even longer in Vail."

Ava nodded. "That's okay, Mom." She looked at her mother, her eyes serious. "But please, don't tell Ethan the details. Don't tell him about Dr. Carter, or Vail. Just say I'm going to a specialist facility. Far away."

Sarah looked surprised but nodded. "If that's what you want, Ava."

Just then, the door opened and Ethan walked in. He carried a large bouquet of lilies, Ava' s favorite. Or so she' d thought.

"What are my two favorite girls whispering about?" he asked, his smile bright.

"Just girl talk, Ethan," Ava said, her voice carefully neutral. She managed a weak smile. He bought it, his attention already shifting to fussing over her pillows.

Ethan then paraded in a new set of "top specialists." They all had grim faces and delivered the same bleak prognosis: she' d likely never walk without help, let alone dance. Ethan played the part of the devastated boyfriend perfectly, vowing to dedicate his life to her care, even talking about marriage once she was "a little better."

Ava watched him, a cold detachment settling over her. She feigned exhaustion, closing her eyes to shut out his false declarations.

The nurses cooed over Ethan. "Such a devoted young man," one of them whispered to Sarah loud enough for Ava to hear. The irony was a bitter pill.

Ava lay in bed, silent tears tracking down her temples. He had destroyed her dreams, her body, her heart, and now he was playing the hero. The cruelty of it was a constant, throbbing ache.

The day Ava was discharged from the New York hospital, Ethan was conspicuously absent.

"He had an urgent meeting at the firm, something about a big client," David Hayes explained, looking apologetic. "And he has to entertain an old family friend tonight. Chloe Vanderbilt. Her family and ours go way back. She just flew in from Paris, she's a dancer too."

Ava' s heart gave a small, sick lurch. Chloe Vanderbilt. The name sounded expensive, elite. Just Ethan' s type.

Ava felt a fresh wave of pain. Six years of his lies. Six years she' d believed she was the one. What a fool she' d been.

David drove Ava and Sarah back to the Hayes mansion. It was supposed to be temporary, until Ava was "settled" before going to the vague "rehabilitation center."

As they entered the grand living room, a young woman stood talking with Ethan. She was tall, elegant, with an air of cool sophistication.

"Ava, darling, this is Chloe Vanderbilt," David said warmly. "Chloe, this is Sarah' s daughter, Ava."

Chloe turned, her smile polite but assessing. "Ava. Ethan has told me so much about you."

Ava felt a chill. She recognized that polished, predatory look. It was the look of a rival. She hadn't found Ethan's secret stash of photos and letters yet, that would come later when she packed. But Chloe Vanderbilt was exactly the kind of woman Ethan' s family would approve of. A perfect match for the golden boy.

"It's a terrible thing, your accident," Chloe said, her voice smooth as silk. She glanced at Ava' s legs, covered by a blanket in the wheelchair. "Are you sure it's as bad as they say? Sometimes doctors are overly dramatic."

"I may not walk again," Ava said, her voice flat, meeting Chloe' s gaze. "And I definitely won't dance."

Chloe' s perfectly shaped eyebrow rose a fraction. "A shame. Ethan was just telling me how he supported me through a silly little ankle sprain I had as a child. He was so wonderfully protective. He even flew me here to New York himself, said there might be a prime spot opening up at one of the companies soon. Funny, how could he have known about your accident before it happened?"

David chuckled, oblivious. "Oh, those two! Inseparable as children. Eleanor and I always hoped they' d make a match of it one day."

Ethan, who had been watching Chloe with an undeniable warmth, suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Dad, that was ages ago. Chloe, let me get you a drink." He quickly steered Chloe away, leaving Ava sitting there, the implications of Chloe's words sinking in like poison.