Chapter 3

I was stunned by her offer. In our entire previous life, she had never once suggested we do something together, something just for us.

My first impulse was to say yes. A part of me, the part that had loved her for a decade despite everything, screamed to take this one chance, this one small moment of peace.

"Yes," I said, the word coming out faster than I intended. "I' d like that."

For the first time all day, the tight line of her mouth softened. Her eyebrows, which had been knitted together in a permanent frown, relaxed.

"Okay," she said. "The reception is supposed to end around ten. We could drive up to Eagle' s Peak. The view is best from there."

She was making plans. With me. It felt unreal, like a dream I was afraid to wake up from.

Then, her phone rang.

The name on the screen flashed, and my heart sank.

Mark.

Her entire demeanor changed. The brief softness vanished, replaced by urgent concern.

"Mark? What' s wrong?" Her voice was filled with a panic I had never heard her use for me. "What do you mean you' re at the hospital? Are you hurt?"

She listened for a moment, her face growing paler. "Okay. Okay, I' m coming. Don' t move. I' m on my way right now."

She hung up and grabbed her purse, not even bothering to look at me. "I have to go. Mark' s been in an accident."

She was halfway to the door when she stopped and finally turned to me. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in short gasps.

I just stood there, my hands in my pockets, my face calm. I had to be calm. This was for her.

She seemed to be waiting for a reaction. An argument. A protest. In my past life, I would have been furious, jealous. I would have told her she couldn't just leave her own wedding.

"Go ahead," I said.

She blinked, confused. "What?"

"He needs you. You should go."

Her confusion turned to suspicion. "Why are you being like this? You' re not... angry?"

A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Angry? I was shattered. But my feelings didn' t matter.

"Why would I be angry, Sarah?" I said, my voice even. "It' s Mark. He' s always been the one you rush to. It' s just who you are."

I remembered all the times in our marriage she had dropped everything for him. His calls always took priority. If he was sick, she brought him soup. If he was sad, she spent hours on the phone with him. I had tried to tell her that he was using her, that he enjoyed having her wrapped around his finger while he dated other women.

She never believed me. She accused me of being a jealous, controlling husband. Maybe I was. But I was also right.

"You have to go," I repeated. "Make sure he' s okay."

My only goal was her happiness. If her happiness meant being at Mark' s bedside on our wedding day, then so be it. I would even hold the door for her.

I was here to fix her regrets, and this was the starting point. She needed to be there for him, untethered to me.

I walked to the door and opened it for her.

"Go," I said gently. "Don' t worry about anything here. I' ll handle it."

She stared at me for a long moment, a storm of emotions in her eyes. Then, without another word, she ran out of the room, her wedding dress trailing behind her.

I closed the door and leaned against it, the fake calm finally breaking. The first regret was in motion. She was with Mark.

Now for the second. Her parents.