Chapter 3

I stumbled into our house, the one I had once called home, feeling like a ghost. The drive had been a long, empty stretch of road. My body was exhausted, a deep, weary ache settling into my bones. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick.

The pregnancy. The tiny life he never wanted. My body was reacting to the poison of his words, to the complete implosion of my reality. I collapsed onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor, my cheek pressed against the porcelain, and just breathed.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the faint sound of David' s voice drifted up from downstairs. He was home. He was on the phone.

And his voice was honey-sweet.

"I know, my love. I miss you too," he was saying. "Yes, Thomas was so excited about the new toy. Tell him Daddy loves him."

Daddy.

The word was a physical blow. He was talking to Rebecca, to his son. The tenderness in his voice, the easy affection... it was a performance I had seen a thousand times, only now I knew I was never the intended audience.

"I' ll see you both this weekend. I promise," he said. "I love you."

He hung up. I heard his footsteps on the stairs, slow and heavy. I scrambled to my feet, splashing cold water on my face, trying to erase the sickness and the despair. I had to be strong. I had to play the part.

He found me in the bedroom, folding laundry, my movements stiff and robotic.

"Sarah, honey, you' re pale," he said, rushing to my side. He placed his hand on my forehead, his touch now feeling alien and repulsive. "Do you have a fever? You feel cool."

His face was a mask of perfect concern. The worry in his eyes looked so real, so genuine, it almost made me doubt what I had heard. But I knew better now. I was watching a master actor at work.

"I' m just a little tired," I said, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears.

"You' ve been working too hard," he chided gently, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I' m sorry I was so late. This deal is just... it' s a monster."

Here it was. The lie. I decided to test it.

"Is everything okay with the merger?" I asked, looking him straight in the eye. "You said you had that big meeting in Chicago this weekend, right?"

I knew he was supposed to be in Chicago. He had told me about it for weeks, a huge, company-defining trip. But he had just promised Rebecca and Thomas he would see them this weekend.

A flicker of something-panic?-crossed his face before he smoothed it over with a reassuring smile.

"Absolutely," he said, not missing a beat. "It' s all going according to plan. The Chicago team is ready for me. It' s the final push. Once this is over, I' m all yours. We' ll take that trip to Italy we' ve been talking about."

Another lie. Another empty promise of a future that would never happen. He was going to spend the weekend playing happy family with his real wife and son, while telling me he was across the country closing a deal.

"I' ll make it all up to you, Sarah," he said, pulling me into a hug. I stood rigid in his arms, my body screaming to pull away. "There' s nothing I wouldn' t do for you. You know that, right?"

The words were so empty, so meaningless. They were just sounds he made.

I pulled back slightly, forcing a small, fragile smile. "I know." I decided to push a little harder, to see how deep the deception went. "Actually, there is something I want."

"Anything," he said instantly.

"For my birthday next week... I want that vintage sapphire necklace. The one we saw at the auction preview last month. The one from the Astor collection."

It was an extravagant request. But more than that, it was a specific, memorable piece. I knew for a fact, from a stray comment I' d overheard from the gallery owner, that a private collector had already purchased it. The buyer' s name was Rebecca Davies.

David' s smile tightened for a fraction of a second. His eyes darted away from mine. He was caught.

"The Astor sapphire?" he said, forcing a light laugh. "Of course. A beautiful choice. Consider it done. I' ll make some calls first thing in the morning."

He was a phenomenal liar. He stood there, knowing full well that necklace was already in his wife' s possession, and promised it to me without hesitation. He would just buy me something else, something similar, and lie about it being the real thing. He thought I was that stupid.

He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head so his lips landed on my cheek. "I' m really tired, David. I think I just need to sleep."

"Of course, honey," he said, his voice dripping with faux understanding. He tucked me into bed, kissing my forehead with a tenderness that made my skin crawl. "Sleep well. I love you."

He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. I lay in the dark, my eyes wide open, listening to his footsteps fade away. The man I had married was a stranger. A monster hiding behind a handsome face and sweet words.

My phone lit up on the nightstand. A new message. It wasn't from David. It was from an unknown number.

My fingers shook as I opened it.

It was a photo. A picture of the Astor sapphire necklace, not in a display case, but lying against the pale skin of a woman' s collarbone. I didn' t need to see her face to know who it was.

Beneath the photo was a single line of text.

It looks even better in person, don' t you think? He has such good taste.

It was from Rebecca. The final, deliberate twist of the knife. She knew. She knew David was with me, and she was taunting me. They weren't just deceiving me; they were enjoying it.

The last bit of my heart, the tiny, foolish part that still clung to a sliver of hope, finally shattered. There was no going back.