Chapter 2

The next morning, I found her in the kitchen, humming as she made coffee. She was dressed in my favorite sundress, the yellow one that made her look bright and cheerful. The sight of it made my stomach turn.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said, turning to me with a smile. "I was just about to bring you coffee. You were so quiet when you came in last night."

She tried to hand me a mug. I ignored it and walked to the refrigerator.

Her smile tightened. "Liam? Are you mad about something?"

I still couldn' t speak the words. Saying them out loud would make it irrevocably real.

She walked over and put her hands on my shoulders. "Talk to me."

That' s when I saw it. A small, reddish smudge on the collar of her yellow dress. It looked like lipstick. Not her shade. Hers was a pale pink. This was a deep, bold red.

"I' m just tired," I finally said, my voice hoarse. I pulled away from her touch.

"You' ve been tired a lot lately," she pouted. "Is it work? We have so much to do for the wedding. My mother is coming over later to help with the seating chart."

She was a phenomenal liar. So calm, so natural. She really believed she had me completely fooled.

"How was the dress fitting yesterday?" I asked, my voice flat. I watched her face carefully.

She didn' t even blink. "Oh, it was great! Mom cried when she saw me in it. She said I look like a princess. The tailor just needs to make a few small adjustments. It' ll be perfect."

"That' s funny," I said, turning to face her fully. "Because Susan texted me yesterday afternoon, asking if I knew where you were. She said your appointment was at two, and you never showed up."

For the first time, I saw a flash of panic in her eyes. It was there for only a second before she covered it with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, that! Silly me. I got the time wrong. I called and rescheduled for this morning. I must have forgotten to tell her. You know how crazy things have been."

She came closer again, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head on my chest. "You' re not really mad about that, are you? Poor Liam. You' re so stressed. After the wedding, we' ll go on a long honeymoon. Just the two of us. No phones, no work. I promise."

Her body felt alien against mine. Her words were like poison. I felt nothing but cold disgust. I gently pushed her away.

"I have to go to the site," I said, turning to leave.

"But what about the seating chart?" she called after me, her voice laced with frustration.

I didn' t answer.

Later that day, I was forced to drive her to pick up some decorations from a supplier across town. The silence in the car was heavy. I kept the radio off. I didn' t want to hear any happy songs about love.

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up, and her entire demeanor changed.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. A genuine, happy smile spread across her face. It was a smile I hadn' t seen directed at me in a long time.

It was him. It had to be Ethan.

"No, I' m in the car... with Liam," she said, rolling her eyes as if my presence was a huge inconvenience. "I can' t talk long. Yeah, tonight. I' ll try. I' ll tell him I' m having dinner with my mom again. He believes anything I say."

She giggled softly. "I miss you too. Okay. Bye."

She hung up and sighed contentedly, completely oblivious to the fact that I had heard every word. She had forgotten the phone was connected to the car' s Bluetooth. His voice hadn' t come through the speakers, but hers had been as clear as a bell.

The coldness in my chest turned into a burning rage.

"So, that was your mother?" I asked, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

She jumped, startled. "What?"

"The phone call. Was that Susan? The one you' re having dinner with tonight?"

Her face went pale. "What are you talking about? That was my cousin, Jessica."

"Stop lying, Chloe," I said, my voice dangerously low. "I' m sick of the lies."

"I' m not lying!" she shrieked, her voice rising. "Why are you being like this? You' re trying to ruin everything! You' re jealous and controlling!"

"Jealous?" I scoffed. "I paid off your ex-boyfriend' s gambling debts, Chloe. I gave him ten thousand dollars last month because you cried and said he was in trouble. Was that for his gambling debts, or was that for a new watch? Or a nice dinner for the two of you?"

Panic turned to fury. "You have no right to question me! You' re supposed to love me! Support me!"

She was getting frantic. She started hitting the dashboard with her fists. "You' re trying to sabotage our wedding!"

"Our wedding?" I said. "Or your payday?"

That was it. She snapped.

She lunged across the console, her face twisted in an ugly snarl. "I hate you!" she screamed.

She grabbed her phone and threw it at my head. I flinched, but the corner of it caught me right above my eye. I felt a sharp, stinging pain, then something warm trickling down my face.

"Chloe, stop it!" I yelled, trying to keep control of the car. We were on the freeway, cars speeding past us on both sides.

But she wasn' t listening. She was completely lost to her rage.

"You' re going to ruin everything!" she screamed again, and then she did the unthinkable.

She grabbed the steering wheel.

She yanked it hard to the right.

The car swerved violently, the tires screeching in protest. I fought to regain control, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Let go!" I shouted, terror overriding the rage.

"No!"

She pulled again, with all her strength.

The world became a blur of motion and a symphony of terrible sounds. The shriek of rubber on asphalt. The sickening crunch of metal as we slammed into the concrete median. The shattering of glass.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The car spun, hitting the barrier again and again before finally coming to a stop.

Silence.

My head was thrown against the side window. Pain exploded behind my eyes, sharp and blinding. I tasted blood in my mouth. My left leg was trapped, twisted at an unnatural angle. I couldn' t feel it.

Through a haze of pain, I looked over at Chloe.

She was fine. A small cut on her forehead, but otherwise, she was untouched. She wasn' t looking at me. She was looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror, dabbing at the cut with her finger.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the car door, and got out. She didn' t even glance back at me, pinned and bleeding in the driver' s seat.

I saw her pull out her phone. I thought she was calling 911.

But then I heard her voice, panicked but controlled.

"Ethan? There' s been an accident. Yeah, with Liam. I don' t know, he just... he lost control. I need you to come get me. No, don' t call an ambulance. Just come get me. I' m on the I-5, just past the bridge."

She hung up, looked at the wrecked car one last time with cold, indifferent eyes, and started walking away down the shoulder of the freeway, leaving me there to die. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the flash of her yellow dress disappearing into the distance.