Chapter 2

The dinner table was silent. I moved my fork around my plate, the food tasteless. Hudson sat across from me, watching.

He stood and went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of warm milk, just the way I liked it. He set it down in front of me.

"You haven't been eating well since August was born," he said, his voice soft. "You need to keep your strength up."

For a second, a stupid, pathetic part of me wavered. This was the Hudson I knew. The attentive, caring man who remembered every little detail about me. Maybe I could live with this. For August. Our son deserved a father.

I took a breath, ready to speak, to ask him, to give him one last chance to tell me the truth.

But then his phone rang, shattering the fragile peace.

He glanced at the screen and a small, apologetic smile touched his lips. "Sorry, Aspen. It' s work. I have to take this."

He walked into the living room, but he didn't close the door. I heard his voice, lower now, intimate.

"Yes, baby. I miss you too."

A pause.

"No, I' m with her. I can't talk long."

The voice on the other end was faint, but I could hear the high, teasing lilt. Hailey's voice.

"Are you going to come see me tonight?" she purred. "Or are you going to stay with your little substitute?"

Hudson chuckled, a low, placating sound. "Be good. I' ll be there soon. Just let me handle things here."

He ended the call and walked back to the table, a look of strained urgency on his face.

"I' m so sorry, Aspen," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's an emergency at the new construction site. I have to go."

It was the same excuse he always used.

The sight of the food on my plate made me sick. I pushed it away.

"It's fine," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Go."

He looked relieved. He leaned over and kissed my forehead, his lips cool against my skin. "Thank you for being so understanding. You're the best, Aspen."

I watched him walk away, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. I didn't say another word. There was nothing left to say between us. We were already over.

From the upstairs window, I watched him get into his car. He didn't drive towards the city, towards the construction site. He drove in the opposite direction, towards the secluded guesthouse at the edge of the estate.

Where he kept her.

I pulled out my phone. A few years ago, after a minor security scare, Hudson had insisted we both install a location tracking app. "Just so I know you're always safe," he'd said. It had a feature that could remotely activate the microphone.

I opened the app, my fingers moving with grim purpose. I heard the crunch of gravel as his car stopped. I heard him get out, his footsteps light and eager.

I heard the guesthouse door open.

"You took forever," Hailey's voice complained.

"I had to get away from her," Hudson replied, his voice thick with a longing I hadn't heard in years. "God, I've missed you."

Then I heard the sounds. The sound of a kiss, wet and hungry. The sound of clothes rustling, of a zipper being undone.

"You' re mine, Hailey," Hudson breathed, his voice raw. "You' ve always been mine."

"And what about her?" Hailey asked, her voice a breathy whisper. "What about your little architect?"

"She's just a stand-in," he said, the words a dagger in my heart. "A pale copy. She looks like you, she even thinks like you sometimes, but she's not you. No one is you."

"Then why keep her?"

"You know why. The trust. My father's archaic rules. I needed a son. And she gave me one. Now, we just have to be patient a little longer."

I listened to them, to their moans and whispers, until I couldn't take it anymore. The phone felt slick in my hand. I wasn't crying. I was just cold.

The tracking app. He put it on my phone to keep me "safe." The irony was a bitter pill. It had shown me a truth more dangerous than any stranger.

I deleted the app. I didn't need it anymore. I knew everything.

An hour later, I heard his car pull up to the main house. Soon after, his footsteps were on the stairs, followed by a lighter, softer tread.

He opened the bedroom door. Hailey was clinging to his arm, a picture of delicate innocence.

"Aspen," Hudson began, his voice strained. "Hailey's... security system at the guesthouse is malfunctioning. She was scared to be alone. I told her she could stay here for a few days, just until it's fixed."

Hailey looked at me, her eyes wide and guileless. "I hope you don' t mind, Aspen. I'd be ever so grateful."

I looked from her perfectly made-up face to Hudson's anxious one. I no longer cared who she was or why she was here. The game was over.

"I don't mind," I said, my voice a flat monotone.

Hudson looked shocked. He had expected a fight. He had expected tears, jealousy. I used to get jealous over the smallest things, over a female colleague smiling at him for too long.

"You... you don't?" he stammered.

"Why should I?" I asked, turning away from them. "The Aspen who would have cared is gone."

I left them standing in the doorway and went to check on August. The person he had loved, the woman who would have fought for him, was dead. He just didn't know it yet.