Chapter 2

"Bella? What' s wrong? You sound..."

Kevin' s voice, clear and steady even over the phone, was the first solid thing I had felt in hours. I was sitting on the floor of my empty apartment, the one I used to share with Gregory.

"I' m coming to see you," I said, my voice cracking.

"I' m on my way." He didn' t ask questions. He didn' t need to. He heard the break in my voice. "My jet is being prepped. I' ll be in New York in five hours. Don' t move. I' m coming to you."

The line went dead. I let the phone drop to the floor and finally allowed the tears to come. They weren't loud, hiccuping sobs, but a silent, steady stream that soaked the front of my dress. Kevin was coming. I wasn' t alone.

While I waited, I walked through the stark, minimalist penthouse that had once felt like home. Now it felt like a museum of a life that was a lie. I opened a closet and pulled out a large, empty suitcase.

Methodically, I began to gather every trace of Gregory. His expensive suits, his silk ties, the photos of us smiling from silver frames. I found the small, velvet box that held the first pair of diamond earrings he ever gave me, whispering that they were as bright as my future. I found the handwritten love notes he used to leave on my pillow.

"My beautiful Bella, my world begins and ends with you."

Each item was a fresh stab of pain. I packed them all away, every gift, every memory, every lie. I dragged the heavy suitcase to the incinerator chute in the service hallway and, one by one, I fed the pieces of my shattered life into the darkness. The custom-tailored suit he wore to our wedding. The first-edition book of poetry he had inscribed for me. The silver locket with our initials. I watched them disappear without a sound.

I was wiping my hands, my face a stoic mask, when I heard a key in the lock. The door swung open and Gregory stood there, a bouquet of my favorite white lilies in his hand.

He saw my face and his smile faltered. "Bella? What' s wrong?"

He dropped the flowers and rushed to me, pulling me into his arms. I stood stiffly, a statue in his embrace. I felt nothing.

"I' m so sorry, my love," he murmured into my hair. "The meeting went on forever. I missed you."

He pulled back, his hands framing my face. His eyes, the same warm brown eyes I had fallen in love with, were filled with what looked like genuine concern. He had arranged for a private chef. The dining table was set with candles and a bottle of expensive champagne. A grand gesture to apologize for his absence.

"I will always be here to protect you, Bella," he said, his voice a low, sincere promise. "Nothing and no one will ever come between us."

I felt a cold, chilling detachment. I was watching a performance, a very convincing one, but I was no longer part of the audience. I knew the truth behind the curtain.

"You look exhausted," he said, misreading my silence. "The gala must have taken a lot out of you. And with what happened with your father' s legacy award... it must be an emotional night."

He was attributing my state to grief over my father, a safe and understandable sorrow. He was already rewriting the narrative.

"I' ve planned a trip for us," he continued, trying to pull me out of my supposed grief. "Our anniversary. A week in a private villa in Tuscany. Just the two of us. No phones, no work. We can reconnect."

His words were interrupted by the sharp ring of his phone. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his mask slipped. A flicker of panic.

"I have to take this," he said, his voice tight. He turned his back to me, walking toward the balcony. "It' s an emergency."

As he moved, the phone screen flashed. I saw the caller ID. It wasn' t an investor. It wasn' t his lawyer. It was a single name: Holly.

He rushed out onto the balcony, his voice a low, urgent murmur. He didn' t notice the look on my face. He didn' t notice that I had died a little more inside.

I remembered a time, years ago, when I had a sudden, high fever. I called him from my office, my voice weak. He was in the middle of closing a billion-dollar deal. He dropped everything. He was by my side in fifteen minutes, his face etched with worry. He carried me out of the building himself, not caring about the dozens of people watching. He held my hand in the emergency room, refusing to leave until the doctors assured him I was fine.

That man, the man who would move mountains for me, was gone. His protective instincts, his urgent concern, it all belonged to someone else now. To Holly and her son.

I spent the night in the guest room, the door locked. I didn' t sleep. The next morning, Gregory was waiting for me, his face a perfect picture of contrition. He had a full day planned. A romantic outing to make up for his absence.

I let him lead me to his car. As I slid into the passenger seat, my foot hit something small and hard on the floor mat. I bent down. It was an earring. A single, gaudy-looking pink crystal heart. It wasn't mine.

I held it up. He glanced at it, his eyes widening for a moment before his expression smoothed over.

"Damn it," he said, taking it from my hand. "Jevon' s daughter must have dropped it. He brought her to the office yesterday. Kids." He tossed it into the glove compartment without another thought.

I said nothing. I just stared out the window, a bitter, self-mocking smile on my lips.

He took me to the restaurant where we had our first date. A charming, intimate French bistro. He ordered our favorite wine, reminiscing about that first night.

"I knew from the moment I saw you," he said, his eyes locking with mine across the table. "I knew you were the one."

I remembered that night. I had been so nervous, so captivated by this powerful, charismatic man who seemed to see right into my soul. He had made me feel like the only woman in the world.

He was talking, weaving a beautiful story of our love, but his phone kept buzzing on the table. He would glance at it, his thumb quickly typing a response under the table.

"I have to step out for a moment," he said suddenly, his smile strained. "A quick call I have to make. A deal closing. I' ll be right back."

He walked away from the table, heading towards the back of the restaurant. My intuition, a cold, sharp thing, told me to follow. I slipped out of my chair and followed him at a distance. He didn' t go to the restroom or the lobby. He went through a door marked "Private."

I pressed my ear to the door. I could hear his voice, low and tender.

"Is his fever down? Did he take the medicine?" A pause. "Good. Tell Jaden that Daddy is very proud of him for being so brave. I' ll be there as soon as I can. I just have to get through this dinner. I love you."

I heard a small boy' s voice, tinny through the phone. "I love you too, Daddy! Come home soon!"

Then I heard Holly' s voice. "We' ll be waiting. Don' t keep us too long."

The world tilted on its axis. He wasn' t closing a deal. He was playing house. He was cooing to his son, promising his mistress he' d be home soon.

I stumbled back from the door, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob. A waiter approached me.

"Ma' am, are you alright? You look pale."

Before I could answer, a manager hurried over. "I' m sorry, ma' am, this area is for staff only." He was gently but firmly blocking my way.

I was being ushered away, an outsider in the very place that symbolized the beginning of my greatest love story. It was a private area. And I was not invited.

I walked back to our table, my mind replaying his excuse. A quick call I have to make. A lie. So easy. So practiced.

I walked right past the table and out the front door of the restaurant. The cool evening air did nothing to calm the fire in my chest. I started walking, my heels clicking a frantic rhythm on the pavement. My foot, which I had twisted slightly earlier, throbbed with pain, but I barely felt it. The agony in my heart was all-consuming.

I walked for blocks, aimlessly, until I found myself in a small park. I sank onto a bench, the world a blurry, meaningless mess of lights and sounds.

Then, a laugh. A broken, hysterical sound escaped my lips. I laughed until tears streamed down my face, until my stomach cramped and I couldn't breathe. I laughed at the absurdity, the cruelty, the sheer, epic scale of his betrayal.

And then, everything went black.