Chapter 2

"A pretty, high-society wife for show, and a passionate woman on the side for fun."

Chace' s words echoed in my ears, a cruel mantra of my own stupidity.

I remembered the day he first approached me on campus. I was a quiet architecture student, buried in books, and he was the campus king-rich, handsome, and surrounded by admirers.

He' d pursued me relentlessly. For weeks, he sent flowers to my dorm, left coffee for me at the library, and waited outside my classes just to walk with me for five minutes.

He was like a golden retriever, annoyingly persistent but with an earnestness that was hard to ignore.

"Why me?" I had asked him one afternoon, genuinely baffled. "You could have anyone."

He had looked at me with those deep, sincere eyes that I now knew were a practiced facade. "Because you' re different, Ember. You don't care about my money or my family. You see me."

I was wary. I knew the reputation of guys like him. "I don't date rich boys. They' re trouble."

The Mcfarland name was synonymous with real estate in our city. He was an heir to a dynasty, and I was just... me. An orphan with a painful past, trying to build a future on my own terms.

He proved me wrong, or so I thought. He started showing up to my part-time job at a local diner, sitting in a corner booth for hours, just watching me work. He ditched his fancy sports car for a used sedan, telling me he sold it because I'd said it was too flashy.

I was stunned. I didn't know what to do with that kind of grand gesture. I tried to avoid him, but it was impossible.

The turning point came during a campus festival. A group of jealous girls, who had been sending me anonymous threats for weeks, decided to confront me. They cornered me behind the student union, shoving me against the brick wall.

"Stay away from Chace, you little gold-digger," the leader sneered.

Before I could even respond, Chace was there. He moved so fast I barely saw him. He grabbed the leader's wrist, his expression turning from charming to ferocious.

"Don't you ever touch her again," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He stood in front of me, a human shield. "She's with me. If you have a problem with it, you have a problem with me."

The girls, intimidated by his fury, backed off. But one of them, in a last act of defiance, threw a rock. It was aimed at me, but Chace moved, taking the blow to his temple.

He staggered, a dark line of blood streaking down his face, before he collapsed. He went down without a sound.

I screamed. The next few hours were a blur of panic and fear. I sat in the stark white waiting room of the hospital, my hands clasped so tightly my knuckles were white. I was terrified.

When he finally woke up, the first thing he did was look for me. He ignored the doctors, his parents, everything. His eyes found mine across the room.

"Are you okay, Ember?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Tears I hadn't realized I was holding back streamed down my face.

He smiled, a weak but triumphant smile. "See? I told you I'd protect you."

Later that night, sitting by his hospital bed, he took my hand. "Ember Ford, I love you. Let me be with you. I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."

And I, a fool who had been starved of love and protection her whole life, finally gave in. I said yes.

A sharp, cheerful voice pulled me from the memory. "Ember, come on! We're taking pictures!"

It was Karyn, waving me over. Chace stood beside her, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. They stood in front of the "Congratulations" banner, a perfect, happy couple.

The crowd of their friends and family had formed a semi-circle, their phones out, snapping photos.

I was pushed to the edge of the group, an awkward spectator at the celebration of my own heartbreak.

Chace looked at Karyn with an expression of pure adoration. It was the same look he used to give me. The realization was another sharp pain in my chest.

"Kiss her, Chace!" a photographer yelled playfully.

Chace' s eyes flickered to me for a brief, unreadable moment. I saw a hint of something-guilt, maybe? But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Karyn' s.

The kiss was long and passionate. The crowd cheered.

I stood on the sidelines, a ghost at the feast. It was a grotesque parody of the moment I had been dreaming of all day. My proposal, my celebration, stolen and twisted into this public humiliation.

Someone posted a photo to their social media story. I saw it over their shoulder. Chace and Karyn were the stars, locked in a romantic embrace. I was a blurry figure in the background, out of focus and irrelevant.

Chace finally pulled away from Karyn and walked over to me. He had the decency to look slightly apologetic.

"Ember, I'm sorry about all this," he said in a low voice, as if we were coconspirators. "Just hang in there. Once Karyn and I are married, things will settle down. I promise, I'll make it up to you."

A future. He was promising me a future as his dirty little secret.

My heart, which I thought couldn't break any further, fractured again. No, I thought. There is no future for us.

I watched him hurry back to Karyn's side, his attention already gone from me.

On the ride home, he insisted I sit in the front passenger seat. It was a small, meaningless gesture of preference, a crumb thrown to a beggar.

Karyn sat in the back, chattering happily, her hand constantly on Chace's shoulder. They reminisced about their childhood, shared inside jokes I couldn't understand, and effectively created a bubble that excluded me entirely.

I stared out the window, the city lights blurring through my unshed tears. The car felt small and suffocating.

"You know, Chace and I have always been practical," Karyn said, her voice suddenly directed at me. I saw her reflection in the window, her eyes sharp and calculating. "Our marriage is mostly for our families. A merger, you know."

I remained silent.

"We' ve agreed to have an open relationship," she continued, her tone light and breezy. "He can have his fun, and so can I. As long as we present a united front to the public."

She was telling me it was okay to be his mistress. She was giving me permission.

Chace nodded, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "See, Ember? Karyn is very understanding. You should thank her for being so generous."

He said it without a trace of irony. He actually expected me to be grateful.

A cold, bitter laugh rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

Thank her? Thank her for taking my life and offering me the scraps?

I looked at my reflection in the dark glass. I had been reduced to this-a woman who was supposed to be grateful for the charity of her boyfriend's fiancée.