Chapter 3

A win-win. The words echoed in my head, a nauseating mantra of his selfishness. He thought he was being noble, a martyr solving everyone's problems. The reality was he was a coward who couldn't keep a promise and had built a new life on the ashes of mine.

"Get your hands off of me," I said, my voice flat, when he tried to reach for my arm.

He flinched back.

I turned and walked towards the stairs, my movements stiff. I needed to get away, to breathe air that wasn't thick with their lies.

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Hayes demanded. "You're not just going to walk away after what you did!"

"I'm going to my room," I said without turning around.

"Oh, well, about that," she said, a note of cruel satisfaction in her voice. "We had to move your things. Chloe and the baby need the master bedroom. It's bigger, and the en-suite is more convenient for late-night feedings. You're in the guest room at the end of the hall."

Of course. I had been replaced in every sense of the word. My clothes, my books, my entire existence, packed into boxes and moved to the small, cold room that was rarely used.

I didn't fight. I didn't have the energy. I just nodded and continued up the stairs, the sound of the baby's crying following me. I closed the guest room door behind me and leaned against it, the wood cool against my back. The room was stuffy and smelled of dust. My boxes were piled in a corner, a testament to how little I mattered here now.

I lay on the narrow bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep was impossible. The house, which was once my sanctuary, was now a prison. Every creak of the floorboards, every muffled voice, was a fresh torment.

Later, I heard them. The baby had finally settled, and the house was quiet, but the walls were thin. I heard the low murmur of their voices from the master bedroom-my bedroom. Then, a soft laugh from Chloe, followed by the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I clamped my hands over my ears, but I couldn't block out the sound or the images it conjured. My mind, a traitor, supplied me with memories of my own. Ethan kissing me in that same bed, his hands in my hair, whispering how much he loved me. The nights we spent dreaming of our future, a future that now belonged to someone else.

It was all a lie. Every memory was tainted, every shared moment a fraud. The love I thought was the bedrock of my life was just sand, and the tide had come in, washing it all away.

The man in the room next door was not the man I had married. He was a stranger. And the woman he was with had not only stolen my husband and my home, she had done it with his family's blessing.

I lay there until the first light of dawn painted the sky in shades of grey. The sounds from the next room had long since faded. I didn't feel heartbroken anymore. The pain had burned away, leaving behind something cold and hard.

Resolution.

I got up, my movements silent and deliberate. I didn't bother with the boxes. There was nothing in them I wanted. I grabbed my purse and my car keys from the top of a dresser.

I walked down the stairs and out the front door without a backward glance. The morning air was crisp and clean. It felt like the first real breath I had taken in months.

My first stop was a small diner for a cup of coffee, black. My second stop was the courthouse. The divorce papers I had signed yesterday were still in my bag. I walked up to the clerk's window and filed them. It was done. The legal tie was severed.

As I walked out into the sunlight, a woman holding a small bouquet of daisies smiled at me. "Have a nice day," she said.

For the first time in a long time, I thought maybe I would.