Chapter 3

I saw Olivia' s gaze linger on the empty space where the scroll used to hang. For a second, I thought about telling her everything, about laying all the ugliness out on the floor between us.

But what was the point? I just shook my head.

"Let' s just get some rest. We have that photo shoot tomorrow."

"Oh. Right," she said, her voice a little shaky. The moment passed.

The next morning, I dragged the heavy trash bag toward the front door. It was surprisingly heavy with the weight of our dead relationship.

Olivia came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready. "Wow, what' s in there? Bricks?"

She reached for the top of the bag, trying to peek inside. I pulled it away from her grasp.

"Just some useless stuff I' m throwing out."

The elevator pinged, its doors sliding open. The distraction was enough. Olivia shrugged, losing interest.

"Well, hurry up. We' re going to be late." She grabbed the bag from my hand and tossed it down the trash chute in the hallway without a second thought. I heard it thud at the bottom of the building.

At the photo studio, Olivia was in her element, directing everything.

"Ethan, try this suit on," she said, holding up a dark navy suit. It was the one I' d pointed out in a magazine weeks ago, mentioning I' d love to wear it for our wedding. I hadn' t realized she was paying attention.

A staff member walked by. "You two are so in love. It' s really beautiful to see."

Olivia beamed. Just then, another assistant came over, whispering something to her. Olivia' s smile tightened.

She turned to me. "Honey, something came up. A real emergency this time. I can' t do the shoot, but you should go ahead and get your solo photos done. We can do the couple shots another time."

She kissed me on the cheek and rushed out.

I stood there for a moment, then calmly walked over to the backdrop. I took the solo photos. I smiled when they told me to smile. I looked thoughtful when they told me to look thoughtful. It was all a performance.

When I got home, the apartment was quiet. But as I walked toward the living room, I heard a man' s laughter. It was Mark.

I stopped in the hallway. Olivia came out of the living room, a bright, false smile on her face.

"Ethan, you' re home! Look who' s here. Mark' s having some personal issues, so he' s going to be staying with us for a little while."

Mark stood up from the couch. He was wearing my bathrobe. He walked over and clapped me on the shoulder, acting like he owned the place.

"Ethan! Good to see you, man. Olivia just made dinner. Come on, let' s eat."

I stared at him, then at Olivia. "No, thank you. I' m not hungry."

I turned and walked toward our bedroom. I needed to get my things, to separate my life from this charade. I pushed the door open and froze.