Chapter 1

The flight back from London felt like a dream. For a year, I' d been living on a prestigious architecture fellowship, pouring everything into my work, but my thoughts were always tethered to home. To Sarah Jenkins. My childhood sweetheart. The woman I was going to marry.

I didn' t call her from the airport. I wanted to surprise her. I imagined the look on her face, the way her eyes would light up. I drove my rental car straight to the Jenkins' house, the same house I' d practically grown up in. Her dad, Mr. Jenkins, always treated me like a son.

I parked across the street, my heart pounding with a nervous energy I hadn' t felt in years. The house looked the same, but there was a blue rocking horse on the porch. I frowned. Maybe a gift for a neighbor' s kid.

I walked up the path and peered through the living room window. And then my world stopped.

Sarah was there, sitting on the couch. But she wasn't alone. She was cradling a baby, a tiny thing wrapped in a yellow blanket. And sitting next to her, with his arm draped possessively around her shoulders, was Mark Stevens. My best friend.

My mind refused to process the scene. It was a painting that made no sense. Sarah, Mark, and a baby. A perfect little family.

I stumbled back from the window, my breath catching in my throat. I needed to leave, to think, but my feet were glued to the spot. The front door was slightly ajar, and their voices drifted out into the quiet afternoon air. I found myself leaning closer, hiding behind a large azalea bush, unable to pull away.

"Are you sure he won't find out?" Mark' s voice was low, laced with something I couldn't identify.

"He won't," Sarah' s voice was sharp, dismissive. "He' s so wrapped up in his own little world. He probably thinks I' ve just been sitting here, waiting for him like a good little girl."

A bitter laugh followed.

"God, he can be such a child. Can you imagine if he came back and saw this? The drama. He' d make it all about him, how we betrayed his precious feelings."

My stomach twisted. They were talking about me.

"He's just an immature nuisance," Mark agreed, his tone smooth and confident. "We did the right thing, keeping this quiet. We don't need him disrupting our perfect family."

Perfect family. The words echoed in my head, a hollow, painful sound. I felt the blood drain from my face. They hadn' t just moved on. They had conspired against me. They had hidden their relationship, their marriage, their child, all while I was overseas, counting the days until I could come home to them. To her.

I thought back to our last video call, just a week ago. Sarah had smiled, telling me she missed me, that she couldn't wait for me to be back. She' d promised we' d pick up right where we left off. It was all a lie. Every word, every smile.

The sheer absurdity of it all hit me. I had spent a year working toward a future she had already dismantled and thrown away. I felt like a fool, a punchline to a joke I was the last to hear.

I had to get out of there. The decision was instant, a reflex of self-preservation. There was nothing left for me here. The love I thought was waiting for me was a phantom. The friendship I cherished was a lie.

I took one last look through the window. Mark leaned in and kissed Sarah. She smiled, a genuine, happy smile I realized I hadn't seen in a long time. Then she kissed the baby' s forehead. A happy family. And I was the stranger on the outside, looking in.

What right did I even have to be angry? To confront them? They had already passed judgment on me. I was a nuisance, a child. My feelings were an inconvenience to their new life. I felt a wave of helpless, bitter self-mockery.

Our whole lives, Sarah and I had been "Ethan and Sarah." It was never just one of us. Mr. Jenkins called me his other kid. We never put a formal label on it, but it was understood. We were saving for a future together. I had a ring design sketched in my notebook. We were inevitable.

But now, looking at them, I saw the truth. The lines had always been blurry, and I was the only one who hadn't seen it. She had kept me in a holding pattern, a comfortable backup while she built a life with someone else. My best friend.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling. I sent her a text, my last desperate attempt to find some crack in this nightmare.

"Just landed. On my way to see you."

I watched through the window as she glanced at her phone. Her smile vanished. She showed the screen to Mark, a flicker of annoyance on her face. Then, she typed a reply.

My phone buzzed.

"Hey! So excited. Can't wait. Running some errands right now, can we meet up later tonight?"

The casual, dismissive lie was the final blow. She was sitting right there, in her home, with her husband and her child, telling me she was out. The coldness of it was absolute. My hope, the last flickering ember, was extinguished. I was completely, utterly alone.