Chapter 2

A few days later, back in San Diego, I was at my home office desk, reviewing the petition.

Mark walked in, a forced smile on his face. He saw the legal documents spread out.

"Working on Jessie's case, honey? That's great. She really needs a shark like you on her side."

He leaned down, tried to kiss my cheek. I turned my head slightly.

His smile faltered.

"You should really apologize to her, Sarah. For not being more understanding. She' s very sensitive."

I looked at him, my expression flat.

"I' m not apologizing to Jessie for anything, Mark."

His face tightened. "Why are you being like this? She' s going through hell."

Memories flickered. Me, burning with fever, him at a "critical" work dinner that turned out to be with Jessie. The anniversary of my father' s death, him impatient because Jessie felt "uncomfortable" with my grief.

My phone buzzed. Not mine. His.

He glanced at it, his expression immediately softening into concern.

"It's Jessie. I have to take this."

He stepped out onto the patio, his voice a low murmur of comfort.

"It' s okay, Jess. I' m here. Tell me what happened."

I turned back to my screen. The words were clear. My words.

The doorbell rang. A flower delivery.

Yellow roses, my father' s favorite. I' d ordered them for his anniversary, a small ritual.

Mark came back inside as I was arranging them in a vase.

"Flowers? Who are those from?"

"They're for Dad," I said quietly. "It's his anniversary today."

He looked blank for a moment, then recognition, followed by dismissal.

"Oh, right. Look, Sarah, I know it' s important to you, but can we maybe not make a big deal of it? Jessie' s really fragile right now, and seeing all this... remember how she said your little photo tribute was depressing for her to be around?"

Depressing. My father's memory, a man he' d claimed to respect, was depressing for his mistress.

The flowers in my hand suddenly felt very heavy.

"Get out, Mark."

"What? Sarah, don't be like that. I' m just trying to manage Jessie' s feelings."

"Get. Out."

He stared, then scoffed, grabbed his keys, and walked out, presumably to rush to Jessie's side after her manufactured crisis call.

The scent of yellow roses filled the quiet room.

My resolve hardened into steel.