Chapter 3

"David Miller?" I repeated, feigning mild surprise. "He's an old friend, Aunt Carol must have gotten confused."

Ethan didn't look convinced. "Confused enough to change the groom on our wedding? Sarah, what the hell is going on?"

I looked at him, really looked at him, and the past ten years flashed through my mind.

Meeting him in that dive bar near campus, his voice raw and captivating even then.

Me, using my savings, the money from my trust fund, to help him record his first EP.

Begging Aunt Carol to let his unknown band play at her popular downtown cafe, their first real gig.

The countless nights I' d waited up, the meals I' d made, the bills I' d paid while he chased his dream.

His proposal, on the stage of the "Austin Battle of the Bands" right after they won.

The crowd cheering, the cheap trophy gleaming under the lights.

That same night, he' d introduced Chloe.

"This is Chloe, our new intern. She' s going to help us with social media and stuff. She' s new to the city, so she' s crashing in the spare room for a bit. It' s safer for her."

Safer for her. In our apartment.

I remembered the unease, the small voice I' d ignored.

Then, three months ago, the out-of-town gig in Dallas.

He was supposed to be playing a festival.

I' d driven up to surprise him, a weekend bag packed.

I found him, not at the festival venue, but at a sleek downtown hotel.

With Chloe.

The hotel room door slightly ajar, their laughter spilling into the hallway.

I saw them through the crack before they saw me.

Chloe in his t-shirt, him kissing her neck.

The world had tilted then.

I' d backed away, unseen, unheard.

Driven back to Austin in a blur of tears and shock, the image seared into my mind.

He' d come home the next day, full of stories about the "amazing crowd" and how much he "missed me."

I hadn' t confronted him then. I was too broken, too unsure of what to do.

The wedding was already planned, deposits paid, dreams invested.

I' d tried to believe it was a mistake, a one-time thing.

Now, looking at his angry, confused face, I knew it wasn't.

"Nothing's going on, Ethan," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Just wedding stress."

He didn't buy it, but the label called him back, and he got distracted, his attention shifting to his "career."

That night, I cried until I had no tears left. The relationship was over. I knew it with a certainty that chilled me to the bone.