Chapter 5

Amelie POV:

The photo of the locket stayed on my screen. It was beautiful, a simple, elegant piece of silver my mother had treasured. Alex' s mother, a woman whose compliments always felt like carefully polished insults, had once called it "quaint."

"It' s sweet that you' re so sentimental, Amelie," she' d said, her eyes flicking to the diamond necklace Alex had just given me. "But you have much nicer things now."

Alex had just squeezed my hand, a silent apology for his mother' s casual cruelty. He knew how much the locket meant to me. It was the only piece of my mother I held onto. I' d told him I would never take it off.

Except I had. I' d taken it off and sold it. What he had was a cheap replica I' d bought online to avoid questions.

He was using a ghost to haunt me. A memory to reel me back in.

I typed a quick reply, my fingers steady. "I' m busy tomorrow. Just leave it with the doorman at the firm."

Then I turned off my phone and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I woke to the feeling of being watched.

The guest room was dark, but a sliver of gray morning light cut through the blinds. A figure was standing by the bed.

My heart leaped into my throat.

"Amelie?"

Alex.

His voice was hoarse, rough with exhaustion. He looked terrible. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess, and dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes.

He stepped closer, holding out a small velvet box. "I came to bring you this. I... I was worried."

I took the box without a word and placed it on the nightstand, next to the wooden bird. I didn' t look at it.

"Thank you," I said, my voice a monotone. "You can go now."

His face fell. "Amy, please. Don' t be like this." He reached for my hand. "This is us. Ten years. We' ve built a life together. You can' t just throw it all away over one... stupid mistake."

He laced his fingers through mine. It used to feel like coming home. Now it felt like a cage.

"I remember when we first moved in," he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "We had no furniture, just a mattress on the floor and two boxes of takeout. You fell asleep on my shoulder sketching plans on a napkin. You said this was going to be our forever home."

I pulled my hand away. The skin he had touched felt cold.

On my wrist, a faint, silvery scar peeked out from under my sleeve. A relic from a teenage night filled with a different kind of despair, a desperate attempt to make the pain on the inside visible on the outside. He didn' t seem to notice it. Or if he did, he didn' t care.

"Kalie needs you," he said, his voice shifting, becoming firmer. "She needs her sister. I need you to let her come home."

I just stared at him.

"The house is sold, Alex," I said, the words falling like stones into the silence.

He looked at me as if I' d spoken in a foreign language. "What?"

"I sold the house. The new owners take possession next week." I sighed, a weary sound. "I' m moving out. And so is she."

He was silent for a long moment, processing. Then he stood up abruptly. "I... I have to go check on Kalie at the hospital."

He fled, not even a backward glance.

I heard the front door close. My first act as a free woman was to walk to the smart lock and delete his fingerprint access.

That night, I didn' t sleep. I lay in the dark, my mind a quiet, empty space, but my body remembered the grief. It was a dull, persistent ache in my bones.

In the morning, I felt dizzy and disoriented. I stumbled out of bed and my hip bumped against the nightstand. The velvet box and the wooden bird clattered to the floor.

I knelt to pick them up. The box had sprung open. Inside, nestled on the velvet, was the locket. It looked... different. Shinier.

A tiny, almost invisible inscription was engraved on the back. My fingers traced the letters. A + K. Forever.

My breath caught. A + K. Alex and Kalie.

My heart started to pound, a frantic, painful rhythm. I scrambled to my feet, my hands shaking as I went to the safe in the wall behind a painting. I punched in the code, my fingers fumbling.

Inside, tucked in the back, was another velvet box. The one containing my mother' s real locket.

I opened it.

The silver was older, softer, with the patina of age. No inscription.

He hadn' t just brought me a replica. He had brought me their locket. A symbol of their secret love, disguised as a token of mine.

A dry, bitter laugh escaped my lips. My eyes burned, but no tears came.

I carefully placed my mother' s locket and their locket side-by-side on the bed. One a memory of a fractured, painful love. The other, a monument to a devastating betrayal.

I packed them both into a small box, addressed it to Alex' s office, and walked out of the house.

I had one last stop to make before my final treatment.

I found them in Kalie' s hospital room. I didn' t even have to open the door. I could hear their voices through the wood.

"-she' s just so dramatic, you know?" Alex was saying, his voice a low, confidential murmur. "Always so serious. It' s draining. I mean, remember how she was after her mom died? It was like walking on eggshells for a year."

He was talking about me. He was taking the deepest pains of my life, the vulnerabilities I had only ever shared with him, and turning them into lighthearted anecdotes for his new lover.

"You' re so different, Kalie," he continued, his voice softening. "You' re like a ray of sunshine. You make everything easy."

My body started to shake, a violent, uncontrollable tremor. I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself. This was a new kind of pain. A violation far deeper than infidelity. He wasn' t just cheating on me. He was erasing me, rewriting our history to justify his betrayal.

I couldn' t breathe. The hallway started to shrink, the walls closing in.

I turned and fled, the sound of their laughter chasing me down the sterile white corridor.