Chapter 2

I had always known about Chloe.

From the day I married Ethan, she was a presence in our lives, even when she was miles away and married to someone else. He talked about her sometimes, a nostalgic look in his eyes. She was the brilliant, passionate one. The one who got away.

I was the quiet, steady one. The girl his family had taken in when my parents died. The one his grandmother had pushed him to marry on her deathbed. I was safe. I was convenient. I was never the one he had wanted.

Now, she was here, in our living room, making it her own.

Ethan settled her on our couch, the one we had picked out together. He fluffed a pillow and placed it behind her back.

Chloe looked up at me from the sofa.

"Ethan, you' re just as caring as you were in college," she said, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly from the kitchen, where I was pretending to get her a glass of water. "Some things never change."

It was a direct shot, meant to remind me that she had a history with him that I could never touch. That I was the intruder in their story.

I gripped the counter, my knuckles turning white.

I watched as Ethan smiled down at her, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. It was a smile I hadn't seen directed at me for months.

"You just rest," he told her softly. Then he took the throw blanket off the back of the armchair, my favorite blanket, and gently draped it over her.

He could be so gentle. Just not with me. The thought was a cold, hard stone in my gut.

Chloe sighed dramatically. "Oh, Ethan, I feel a bit dizzy all of a sudden. My head is spinning."

She put a delicate hand to her forehead.

"Maybe you should drive me home? I don' t think I can make it on my own."

It was a classic move. A way to isolate him, to make him her sole protector, and to force me into the role of the cold, uncaring wife.

Before I could stop myself, the words came out.

"Ethan, it' s our anniversary."

He turned to me, his face instantly hardening. The warmth he showed Chloe was gone, replaced by irritation.

"Ava, what is wrong with you?" he snapped. "Can' t you see she' s sick? Don' t be so selfish for once."

"We made an agreement when we got married," he said, his voice sharp. "We said we would always be there for our friends, no matter what. Chloe is my friend, and she needs me right now."

He twisted our wedding vows into a weapon to use against me. He made my pain seem petty and selfish.

I looked at him, really looked at him. The man I had loved, the man I had hoped to build a life with, was gone. In his place was a stranger who looked at me with annoyance and defended the woman who was actively destroying our marriage.

The fight went out of me. There was nothing left to say.

My hand, which had subconsciously moved back to my belly, fell away again. This time it was for good. I had to protect my baby. And that meant getting away from him.

"Go," I said. My voice was flat.

He seemed taken aback by my lack of resistance. He stared at me for a second, then turned and helped Chloe to her feet.

I didn' t watch them leave. I just stood there in the silent house, the smell of her perfume lingering in the air. The anniversary dinner I had so carefully prepared sat on the table, a monument to my foolish hopes.