Chapter 2

The official SAR team found Ethan six hours later. He was alive, but only just. The news traveled through our tight-knit climbing community like a shockwave. Severe frostbite. They had to amputate the tips of two fingers on his right hand.

His dreams of being a pro-level climber, the ones he' d chased with a reckless passion but no real discipline, were over.

And just like that, I became a villain.

My phone, when I finally turned it back on, was a toxic swamp of messages.

"How could you?"

"Cold-hearted bitch."

"He was your friend, Chloe. You just left him to die."

The words came from people I had climbed with, laughed with, trusted. They saw my refusal not as a rational decision, but as a betrayal of the highest order. My expertise, once a source of admiration, was now the weapon I had supposedly used against one of our own.

I deleted them all without replying.

A week later, there was a knock on my door. I knew who it was before I opened it.

Ethan stood on my porch, his right hand heavily bandaged. Beside him, clinging to his arm, was Brooke. She had her "sweet girl" mask on, her eyes full of fake concern.

"Chloe," Ethan started, his voice rough. "I just wanted to come by and thank you."

The words were laced with venom.

"Thank you for what, Ethan?"

"For showing your true colors," he sneered. "All those years, I thought you were this amazing, selfless person. Turns out you' re just a selfish coward."

Brooke squeezed his arm, looking up at him with doe-eyed adoration. "Ethan, don' t. She' s not worth it."

Her voice was soft, but it was a performance for him. Her eyes, when they met mine, were cold and triumphant. She had won. In her mind, at least.

"Brooke has been with me every second," Ethan continued, his gaze fixed on me, trying to burn me with his hatred. "She' s the one who was really there for me. We' re together now. Officially."

He said it like he was dropping a bomb, expecting an explosion of tears or anger from me. He wanted a reaction. He needed to see me hurt.

In my past life, this news would have shattered me. It did shatter me. He' d told me about Brooke a year after our wedding, and the pain was a physical thing.

But this Chloe wasn' t that girl.

I looked from his angry face to Brooke' s smug one. I gave a small, polite smile.

"Congratulations," I said, my tone light and unbothered. "I wish you both the best."

I started to close the door.

Ethan' s face twisted in confusion, his planned victory speech dying on his lips. This wasn' t how it was supposed to go.

"That' s it?" he demanded, blocking the door with his foot. "That' s all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" I asked, my hand still on the doorknob. "You' ve made your choice. I' m happy for you. Now, if you' ll excuse me, I have things to do."

I closed the door firmly in his stunned face, the click of the lock echoing the final, definitive end of my old life.