Chapter 1

I made the decision to leave him on a Tuesday. It wasn't a dramatic, explosive choice. It was a quiet, cold certainty that settled in my bones while I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, watching him sleep.

For a long time, the only thing that mattered was my research. As an astrophysicist, I lived in a world of distant stars and cosmic theories. My focus was singular, my ambition a burning fire that consumed everything else. My work was on the verge of a breakthrough, something that could change space travel forever. But my life on Earth was a different story, a story tangled with a past I tried to ignore.

My father, Dr. Robert Miller, was once a celebrated NASA engineer. Now, he lived in obscurity, his name a synonym for failure after a scandal that wasn't his fault. He was framed, and the man who framed him, my former mentor Dr. Arthur Hayes, was now the powerful CEO of an aerospace conglomerate. It was a web of betrayal I had spent years trying to forget. I carried the weight of my father's tarnished name like an invisible cloak.

Just a few weeks ago, my father had reappeared in my life. He claimed to have the missing data I needed, the key to completing my research. But there was a condition: I had to help him clear his name. It felt like an impossible choice, a collision of my professional ambition and a family duty I had long since shirked.

I had a conversation with Dr. Hayes, my mentor, just last week. We sat in his polished office, the city skyline spread out behind him.

"Chloe, your work is exceptional," he said, his voice smooth and encouraging. "You're on the brink of something truly great."

"Thank you, Dr. Hayes," I said, feeling a familiar swell of pride. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

"Your future is bright," he continued, leaning forward. "Don't let anything, or anyone, distract you from that."

His words felt like a warning then, and they echoed in my mind now. He was talking about my father. But as I stood there, watching the man I thought I would spend my life with, another layer of betrayal began to unfold.

My relationship with him was long, a seven-year epic of shared apartments, inside jokes, and intertwined lives. We had built a world together, piece by piece. I remembered the early days, the easy laughter and the feeling that we were an unbreakable team. I had poured so much of myself into that foundation, believing it was solid.

He suddenly appeared in the living room, startling me out of my thoughts. He had just come back from a "work trip." He walked toward me, a charming smile on his face, and tried to pull me into a hug.

"I missed you," he said, his voice a low murmur against my hair.

The air in the apartment felt heavy, thick with unspoken words. The city lights outside the window cast long shadows across the floor, making our familiar living room seem like a stage set for a play I no longer wanted to be in.

But I let him hold me. For a moment, I let myself pretend. Then, my eyes fell on the white collar of his shirt. A faint, almost imperceptible smudge of pink. It wasn't my shade of lipstick. It was a small, damning detail, a tiny crack in the facade of our life. The kind of detail that undoes everything.

A wave of something cold and sharp washed over me. It wasn't just shock. It was a bitter, mocking disappointment. I looked up at his face, at the sincere expression he wore so effortlessly. He was still talking, saying something about how tired he was, how much he was looking forward to the weekend with me. And all I could think was what a fool I had been. A self-deprecating laugh almost escaped my lips. He was a good actor. I had to give him that. The lie was as comfortable on him as his expensive suit. In that moment, the brilliant astrophysicist, the woman on the cusp of changing the world, felt like the stupidest person on the planet.