Chapter 2

Ethan finally looked over, his gaze landing on the empty spot on my finger, then on the floor where the ring had disappeared. For a moment, I saw a flicker of something-panic, maybe regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

He gently guided Lily back to Chloe, whispering something to them. Chloe nodded, a look of grim satisfaction on her face.

"Lily, darling, why don' t you tell Uncle Ethan what would make you feel better?" Chloe prompted, her voice sickly sweet.

Lily looked up at Ethan with big, tear-filled eyes, a performance worthy of an award. "I want to give you your ring, Uncle Ethan. Mommy says I should be the one to do it, because I' m your family."

I felt the air leave my lungs. This was beyond a tantrum. This was a calculated power play.

Ethan hesitated, his eyes darting toward me for a fraction of a second. I saw the conflict in his face, the weakness I had always mistaken for kindness.

"Honey, that' s... that' s for Olivia and me to do," he said, his voice weak.

"But I want to!" Lily wailed, starting to cry again. "Mommy said it' s our family' s special day too!"

I stared at Ethan, my heart pounding a slow, heavy rhythm of dread. This was his chance. His chance to draw a line, to be my partner, to put our relationship first.

I thought about the five years we had spent together. The late-night talks, the shared dreams, the quiet comfort of our life together. Was this what it all came down to? Was our bond so fragile that a ten-year-old' s whim could shatter it? I loved him, but what was this relationship if I was always going to be the outsider in his own family?

He looked from Lily' s crying face to Chloe' s expectant one, then to his parents, who were nodding encouragingly. The pressure was immense, a silent weight from his entire family.

And then, he caved.

"Okay, Lily," he said softly, his voice full of a tenderness he hadn' t shown me all evening. "Okay. You can help."

He walked over to the table, got on his hands and knees, and started searching for the ring. My ring. The one he was now going to let his niece use as a prop in her twisted little show.

Chloe walked past me, deliberately brushing my shoulder. She leaned in, her voice a low, triumphant hiss meant only for me.

"See? He' ll always choose us."

She didn' t even try to hide it. Her smug smile was a declaration of war.

Ethan found the ring and stood up, dusting off his pants. He avoided my gaze completely. He knew. He knew what he was doing was wrong, that it was a profound betrayal, but he did it anyway.

He had always told me his duty to his brother' s family was his top priority. After his brother' s death in a car accident years ago, Ethan had stepped up, providing for Chloe and Lily financially and emotionally. I had admired his sense of responsibility, his loyalty. But now I saw it for what it was: a toxic, codependent trap. He wasn' t supporting them, he was enabling them. He was a prisoner of his own guilt and their manipulation.

Was this my future? Constantly fighting for a place in my own relationship? Always coming in second to a woman who despised me and a child who was being taught to do the same?

His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, came over to me, their faces etched with a practiced sympathy.

"Olivia, dear, you have to understand," Mrs. Miller began, patting my arm. "Chloe has been through so much. And little Lily, losing her father so young... Ethan just feels he has to make it up to them. It' s his burden to bear."

"A burden?" my mother cut in, her voice sharp. "This is his engagement party. He' s humiliating his future wife."

Mr. Miller sighed heavily. "It' s complicated. We just want everyone to be happy."

But their version of "happy" seemed to involve my complete and utter surrender. My parents stood beside me, their faces a thunderous mask of support, but they were helpless. The Millers closed ranks, a united front of dysfunction.

I watched Ethan, my fiancé, walk back to the center of the room, holding the ring. A profound and chilling disappointment settled over me. It was a cold, hard feeling in the pit of my stomach. The man I loved, the man I was about to marry, was a stranger. Or worse, he was exactly the man he' d always been, and I had just been too blind to see it.