Chapter 4

I spent ten years with Ethan. We met in college. He was a brilliant, driven computer science major with big dreams, and I was an architecture student who saw the beauty in his chaotic energy. I helped him write his business plan on coffee-stained napkins in the campus library. I was his first investor, using the small inheritance my grandmother left me. I designed the logo for his first startup.

For the first few years, we were a team. We built everything together. His success was my success.

Then, the success got bigger than both of us. The company went public. The money poured in. The man I loved was replaced by a CEO, a brand, a public figure. Our conversations shifted from dreams and fears to stock prices and market shares. He stopped seeing me, Chloe, the woman who loved him. He saw the 'wife of a tech mogul,' a necessary accessory for his public image.

I became another one of his beautifully designed, high-maintenance assets. Like this house. Like his cars. Like his watch.

Snapping out of the memory, I looked at him coddling Skylar on my sofa, in my living room. I felt a wave of nausea. I couldn't breathe in this house anymore.

"I'm going out," I announced, grabbing my keys and purse from the hall table.

"Where are you going?" Ethan demanded, his brow furrowed.

"Out," I repeated, not looking at him. I walked out the door and didn't look back.

I drove straight to Maya's studio downtown. The place was a chaotic masterpiece of paint-splattered floors, half-finished canvases, and the smell of turpentine and creativity. Maya was there, a smudge of cobalt blue on her cheek, her expression immediately softening when she saw me.

She just opened her arms, and I walked into them, letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"He brought her to the house," I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder.

"That monster," she murmured, her arms tightening around me. "You know, Chloe, it's not too late. You could fight this. You could take him for everything he's worth. Don't make it easy for him."

I pulled back, shaking my head. "What's the point, Maya? To drag it out for years? To have Leo watch us tear each other apart in court? For money? I don't need his money."

Maya sighed, wiping her paint-stained hands on a rag. "I know. It's just... the injustice of it all. He gets to walk away with a new, young girlfriend and a clear conscience because you 'cheated' too."

She stopped, running a hand through her wild, curly hair. "Sorry. I shouldn't be telling you what to do. I just hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"So... calm. It's unnerving."

"The storm already happened, Maya," I said, a bitter taste in my mouth. "This is just the aftermath."

That night, I stayed at Maya's, sleeping on her lumpy but comfortable guest bed. I was exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. I tossed and turned, my mind a relentless reel of memories and future anxieties.

Eventually, I drifted into a restless sleep, where I was walking through an endless, modern glass house. Every room was empty. I called out for Ethan, for Leo, but only my own voice echoed back. Then, I turned a corner, and Skylar was standing there, in the cream-colored sweater, her doe-eyes filled with pity. She didn't say anything, she just stood there, a silent testament to my failure.

I woke with a jolt, my heart pounding. For a second, I didn't know where I was. Then I felt a small, warm weight next to me.

I turned my head. It was Leo. Maya must have picked him up from my house and brought him here, letting him crawl into bed with me. He was sound asleep, one small hand clutching the fabric of my shirt.

His steady, even breathing was the only thing that mattered. He was my anchor in this storm. I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him close, and stared into the darkness, the image of Skylar' s face refusing to fade.