Chapter 3

The memory of that restaurant still made my stomach clench.

It was months before I found "Sanctuary," but the suspicion was already a knot inside me.

Michael had a departmental seminar, he said. Said he' d be late.

A friend texted me, a casual, "Saw Michael at 'The Vine' with a young woman, looks cozy!"

"The Vine" was trendy, expensive, not a place for a quick post-seminar chat.

I drove there, my hands gripping the wheel.

I saw them through the window before I even went in.

Olivia, her head thrown back, laughing. Her hand was on his arm, a lingering touch.

Michael was leaning in, his eyes fixed on her, that intense look he used to give me.

I walked in. Stood by their table.

"Michael."

His head snapped up. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

Olivia looked at me, a flicker of something – triumph? – in her eyes before she arranged her face into shock.

"Oh! Sarah! I... we were just discussing Michael' s latest paper."

She started to get up, a little too quickly, a little too dramatically.

She stumbled backward, knocking her own cup of tea, or coffee, whatever hot drink it was, directly onto her arm.

She cried out, a sharp, theatrical sound.

"Oh, my God! It burns!"

Michael leaped to his feet, rushing to her side, all concern. "Olivia! Are you okay?"

He glared at me. "Sarah, what the hell are you doing? You made a scene!"

Olivia was cradling her arm, tears welling. "She... she startled me."

A junior colleague of Michael's, a sycophant named Mark, who was at a nearby table, rushed over.

"Professor Hayes, is everything alright?" He looked from Michael to me, sizing up the situation.

He clearly wanted to impress Michael.

He stepped towards me. "Ma'am, I think you should leave."

I stood my ground. "I'm not going anywhere until I speak to my husband."

Mark puffed up his chest. He grabbed my arm, roughly. "I said, leave."

He pushed me. Hard.

I stumbled, my head cracking against the edge of a heavy wooden service station.

Pain exploded behind my eyes. The restaurant spun.

Michael didn't even look at me. He was still fussing over Olivia, dabbing at her arm with a napkin.

"Someone call a doctor for Olivia!" he was saying.

My head throbbed. Humiliation washed over me, hot and bitter.

That was the first time I saw how far he would go to protect her, and how little I meant.