Chapter 1

The relationship was ten years old, born in a UT Austin dorm room and now dying in our shared Zilker apartment. It felt like a low-grade fever, a constant, dull ache I couldn't shake.

Liam had been distant for months, but the real alarm bell was the privacy screen he suddenly stuck on his iPhone.

"What's this for?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

He didn't look up from his laptop, his architect's focus absolute. "Work stuff. Confidential designs. You know how it is."

I didn't. For a decade, we had no secrets. Now, his phone was a black, unreadable void when I sat next to him on the couch.

That night, he was out on the balcony, meticulously tending to a Texas-style brisket on his smoker, a ritual he claimed was all for me. His phone lay on the kitchen counter, screen facing up. A text lit it up. I couldn't see the message, just the name. It wasn't a name, just a string of numbers. My heart hammered against my ribs.

I walked over, my hand shaking slightly as I picked it up. The screen was unlocked. The message was simple.

"Thinking of you."

My breath caught. It was a woman's name, Chloe, with a little heart emoji next to it. An intern from his firm, he'd mentioned her once or twice. Young, pretty, from a rich family. Everything his blue-collar background made him crave.

A cold rage, sharp and clear, cut through the anxiety. I thought about the years. The sacrifices. The secret pain we shared, or so I thought. The car accident that took my parents and my ability to have children. A pain he knew, a pain he' d promised to share, but lately, had used as a weapon. "Don't you think I want a family, Ava? I'm giving that up for you." He' d said it during our last fight.

I looked at the brisket smoking on the porch, the meal he claimed was for me. I looked at the phone in my hand.

My thumbs moved before my brain could stop them. I opened the message thread.

"Come over. She's out."

I sent it.

Then I sat on the couch and waited, my heart a stone in my chest.

Less than twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Liam, wiping his hands on a towel, went to get it, a confused look on his face.

"Chloe? What are you doing here?"

I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady. There she was. Chloe. Twenty-three, blonde, wearing a sundress that probably cost more than my monthly grocery bill. She held up a Tupperware container.

"Oh, hi Liam! Sorry to just drop by," she said, her voice a sweet, practiced melody. "You left this at the office after the potluck. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd return it."

She smiled, a perfect girl-next-door performance. She glanced at me, her eyes widening in mock surprise. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you had company. I'm Chloe, an intern at Liam's firm."

Liam shot me a look. It was pure, unadulterated fury, masked by a thin layer of social grace.

"Ava, this is Chloe. Chloe, my girlfriend, Ava."

"It's so nice to meet you," Chloe chirped, her smile never faltering.

I just stared at her, then at Liam. The smell of brisket filled the apartment, rich and suffocating. He made it for me. He said.

Chloe didn't stay long. She handed over the Tupperware, exchanged a few pleasantries with Liam about a project, and left.

The moment the door clicked shut, Liam turned on me.

"What the hell was that, Ava?"

"What was what?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"That look. The silence. You invited her here, didn't you? You saw a text and you jumped to the worst possible conclusion."

He was advancing on me, his voice low and menacing.

"You're so paranoid. So controlling. After everything I do for you, this is the trust I get? She was just returning a container, for God's sake. You're making things up in your head."

He picked up his phone, saw the message I'd sent. His face went dark.

"You're insane," he spat. "Absolutely insane."

He stormed back out to the balcony, slamming the glass door behind him. I stood alone in the living room, the lie hanging in the air, thick as the smoke from the grill. For a second, I almost believed him. Maybe I was paranoid. Maybe I was the problem.

That's how good he was.