Chapter 3

My hand clenched into a fist under the table.

He was threatening their jobs. My friends. People who relied on me.

I looked at Ethan, then at Chloe.

Chloe had a small, knowing smile on her face. She was enjoying this.

Ethan watched me, his expression daring me to defy him.

Slowly, I picked up my fork.

I took a small bite of the fish.

The spice exploded in my mouth, burning my tongue, my throat.

My eyes watered.

Chloe watched me, her smile widening.

Ethan leaned back, satisfied. "See? Not so bad, is it?"

I forced myself to take another bite, then another.

Each mouthful was agony. My stomach started to cramp.

I focused on a point on the wall, trying to dissociate from the pain.

I ate what was on my plate, my insides screaming.

An hour later, the acute gastritis hit.

Sharp, stabbing pains in my stomach doubled me over.

I was sweating, nauseous.

I stumbled to the bathroom and threw up, the spicy food burning its way back up.

The pain was unbearable.

I needed a doctor.

I called Ethan. He was my emergency contact.

His voice was impatient when he answered. "What is it, Sarah? I'm busy."

"Ethan, I'm really sick. The food... I need to go to the hospital." My voice was weak, trembling.

"Sick? Don't be so dramatic. It's just a little indigestion."

"No, Ethan, it's bad. The pain..."

"Look, I can't deal with this right now," he cut me off. "Chloe twisted her ankle badly at the office today. I'm taking her to the ER. She might need a specialist."

A twisted ankle. He was taking her to the ER for a twisted ankle.

While I was in agony.

"Ethan, please..."

"Call a cab or something. I have to go." He hung up.

The line went dead.

Alone. I was completely alone.

The pain intensified. I collapsed on the floor, clutching my stomach.

With shaking hands, I dialed 911.

"Ambulance... I need an ambulance..."

I remembered a time in high school.

Ethan had gotten into a fight defending me from some bullies.

He got a black eye, a split lip.

I' d cleaned his wounds, my heart aching for him, loving his fierce protection.

He'd been my hero then.

For fifteen years, he was the sun my world revolved around.

I built my life on the foundation of his presence, his approval.

That foundation was now quicksand.

Emily, Liam's sister and my closest friend, had called me earlier that day.

"Sarah, are you okay? You sounded... off when we talked last week."

I'd brushed it off. "Just stressed with work, Em."

"It's more than that, isn't it? It's Ethan."

I didn't answer.

"Sarah," she said gently. "You've given him everything. When is it your turn to be happy? When will he see you?"

Her words echoed in my mind now, lying on the cold bathroom floor.

When would he see me?

Never. He never had.

It was like waking from a long, suffocating dream.

The dream was over. Ethan wasn't my hero. He was the source of my pain.

At the hospital, after they'd given me medication for the severe gastritis, the pain began to subside into a dull ache.

I lay in the emergency room bed, staring at the ceiling.

I felt hollowed out.

My wedding ring, a simple gold band Ethan had picked out without asking my preference, felt heavy on my finger.

Slowly, I twisted it off. It left a pale indent on my skin.

I held it in my palm. It meant nothing.

Just then, Liam O'Connell walked in. My childhood best friend. Emily's brother.

He looked worried.

"Sarah? Emily called me. She said you called her, sounding like you were in terrible pain, then the call cut off."

Emily. I' d managed to call her before I called the ambulance. I barely remembered.

Liam had been my actual emergency contact on my personal forms for years, not Ethan. A silent agreement between me and Emily.

As Liam sat beside me, his presence a quiet comfort, I overheard two nurses talking at their station nearby.

"Did you see that guy in Orthopedics? Making such a fuss."

"Oh, Mr. Hayes? With the pretty young thing who just twisted her ankle?"

"Yeah, demanding the chief of orthopedics for a sprain! Some people."

Ethan. He was here. In this hospital.

Not for me, his wife, who had been rushed here in an ambulance.

But for Chloe, and her "badly sprained ankle."

The contrast was a final, brutal confirmation.

I closed my eyes. The decision was made. It was over.

Suddenly, the curtain to my cubicle was pulled back.

Chloe stood there, her ankle lightly wrapped. She was using a crutch but didn't seem to be putting much weight on it.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying.

"Sarah," she whispered, her voice thick with fake remorse. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't know you were allergic to spice... or that it would be this bad."

Allergic? I wasn't allergic. I had a sensitive stomach. She knew. Ethan knew.

Before I could respond, Ethan burst in, his face a mask of fury.

Chloe immediately burst into tears.

Then, she did something astonishing. She slapped her own face, hard.

"Sarah, how could you!" she shrieked, collapsing against Ethan. "I came to apologize, and you... you hit me!"

Ethan caught her, his eyes blazing at me.

"You bitch!" he roared. "She comes here to apologize, and you attack her?"

He turned to Chloe, all concern. "Are you okay, honey?"

Then he rounded on me. "You are going to apologize to Chloe right now. And you're going to compensate her for her distress."

He paused, then delivered the final blow. "My grandmother left me some Hayes Capital shares. They were meant for my wife. As a welcome to the family. You'll sign them over to Chloe."