Chapter 2

The next few weeks were a blur of doctor' s appointments and a growing, quiet despair.

The diagnosis wasn't official yet, but the word "glioblastoma" had been whispered, a death sentence hanging in the sterile air of examination rooms.

Marcus remained distant, a phantom in our sprawling, empty house.

He came home late, left early, his life revolving around Skyler and his booming private equity firm.

I decided I needed something, anything, to hold onto.

One rainy afternoon, I found myself at the city animal shelter.

The barking was deafening, the smell of disinfectant sharp.

In a small cage at the back, a scruffy terrier mix with one floppy ear and sad, intelligent eyes watched me.

His information card said "Gus, _needs_ TLC."

I knew Marcus hated dogs, said they were messy, needy.

But Marcus was never home.

"I'll take him," I told the volunteer, a small smile touching my lips for the first time in what felt like forever.

Gus was a wreck, underweight and skittish, but he leaned into my touch, a silent plea for kindness.

He became my shadow, my small, warm comfort in the cold expanse of my life.

To keep my mind occupied, and because the medical bills were already looming, I took a small freelance film editing job.

It was for an independent short, low budget, but it was something.

The first day on set, my heart sank.

The lead actress, demanding and preening, was Skyler Reed.

And there, by her side, doting and attentive, was Marcus.

He hadn' t told me he was involved, an investor perhaps.

He saw me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he turned back to Skyler, laughing at something she said.

I kept my head down, focusing on the editing console, the click of the keyboard a counterpoint to their easy intimacy.

During a break, Skyler sauntered over, her perfume cloying.

"Ellie, isn't it?" she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Marcus has told me so much about his... situation at home."

She leaned closer, her eyes glinting.

"He says you' re not well. Such a shame. He needs someone with energy, you know? Someone who can keep up."

Her words were precise, designed to wound.

I felt a familiar throbbing start behind my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, pushing past her, needing air, needing to escape the suffocating weight of her malice and his betrayal.

The humiliation was a bitter pill, swallowed in silence.

Gus was waiting for me when I got home, his tail thumping a welcome.

I buried my face in his fur, the only place I felt safe.