Chapter 3

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

A promise. He had promised me.

I gripped the handle of my small suitcase, my knuckles white. I looked across the lobby at him, at the man who was supposed to be my husband, now celebrating his marriage to another woman.

I remembered his mother, a stern, pragmatic woman, urging us to get married quickly. "A merger of families is a merger of companies, Damian. It's good for business."

He had held my hands and looked into my eyes with so much love it made my heart ache. "No, Mom," he'd said. "I'm marrying Alana because I love her. And I want our day to be perfect. May 20th. That will be our day."

I had asked him why that specific date. He had just smiled mysteriously. "It's a surprise."

I waited for that day like a fool. A sweet, naive fool. And on that day, he married Eileen Brandt.

My hand holding the phone trembled. A strange sense of relief washed over me. At least I hadn't signed any papers with him. I had dodged a legal nightmare.

A nurse walked past me, munching on a small, exquisite piece of candy. "Mr. Avila is so generous," she said to a colleague. "These are custom-made chocolates from Switzerland. They must have cost a fortune."

She noticed me standing there and offered me a piece with a kind smile. "Here, have one. It's a happy day."

I didn't take it. I just stared.

I stared at Damian. He was so caught up in his joy, he didn't even see me. He hadn't noticed me at all.

Then Eileen appeared at his side, looking radiant in a simple white dress. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a shy, sweet kiss on the cheek.

He turned and wrapped his arm around her, his smile gentle and full of affection.

The head nurse came over. "So when is the big celebration? We all want to see the beautiful bride in her gown."

Damian beamed. "Next week. We're holding a grand ceremony and it will be broadcast globally. I want the whole world to see how much I love my wife."

He held Eileen's hand, looking every bit the proud, devoted husband.

I turned and walked out of the hospital.

When I got home, the lavender dress was waiting for me, laid out on my bed. The dress he wanted me to wear to his wedding.

I picked it up, carried it downstairs to the fireplace, and set it on fire.

The flames licked at the delicate fabric, turning it to black ash. I watched it burn, my face impassive.

Then I went upstairs and retrieved a large, heavy box from the back of my closet. It was filled with every gift Damian had ever given me. Each one was wrapped in a special paper, a deep, celestial blue.

"Why this color?" I had asked him once, tracing the silver star patterns with my finger.

He had kissed me then. "Because you're my sky, Alana. My everything."

I remembered the love in his eyes, the warmth of his hands. It all felt like a dream from another life.

I carried the box downstairs and dumped the contents into the fire. The flames roared, consuming the memories, the promises, the lies.

The past was ash.

I picked up my phone and made two calls. The first was to a real estate agent.

"I want to sell the house," I said. "Immediately."

The second was to the gardener.

"Remove all the blue hydrangeas from the garden," I ordered. "Dig them up. I don't want to see a single one left."

He had planted them for me himself, on his hands and knees in the dirt. "Because they're the color of your eyes when you smile," he'd said.

I don't need them anymore, I thought. I don't need him.

After everything was done, I felt a deep, profound exhaustion settle over me. I went to my empty room and lay on the bed.

I drifted into a restless sleep, only to be jolted awake by a feeling of being watched. A hand was stroking my hair.

I snapped my eyes open.

Damian was leaning over me, his face inches from mine. His breath smelled of expensive champagne.

I shoved him away, scrambling to the other side of the bed.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed. "You're a married man now, Damian. This is inappropriate."

I remembered, with a sickening lurch, that he still had a key. I made a mental note to change the locks first thing in the morning.

He stood up, looking hurt. "Alana, don't be like this."

He reached out to touch my hair again. "Just be patient a little longer. I'll divorce her, I swear. And then I'll give you the wedding of the century."

His eyes were filled with that same, intense love he had always shown me. It was a perfect performance.

"You were hurt," he said softly. "I know you were."

Suddenly, a piercing shriek came from downstairs.

"Damian! Damian, where are you? You promised you wouldn't leave me!"

It was Eileen. She must have followed him. She must have heard everything.

Her voice rose in a hysterical cry. "If you're going back to her, I'll kill myself! I'll do it right now!"

We heard the sound of footsteps running out of the house, followed by the squeal of tires.

My parents, woken by the noise, rushed into my room. They saw the two figures running out of the house and looked at me, their faces full of concern.

I was too tired for this drama.

"Change the locks," I said, my voice flat.

My parents exchanged a worried glance but didn't ask any questions. They just quietly left the room.

I pulled the covers over my head and willed the world to go away.