Chapter 2

The flight was in two days. Two days to untangle five years of a life built on lies. I spent the first day in the guest room, my body wracked with fever and chills. I didn't answer the door when Chloe knocked, her voice laced with fake concern.

"Ethan? Are you okay? You should come out and eat something."

I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the sound of her voice making my stomach turn. She wasn't worried about me. She was worried about the inconvenience.

The next morning, the fever had broken, leaving me weak but clear-headed. I emerged from the room feeling like a ghost in my own home. Chloe was in the kitchen, sipping coffee and scrolling through her phone. She looked up, her expression carefully neutral.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

I didn't answer. I just walked to the coffee maker and poured myself a cup. My silence seemed to unnerve her. She was used to my apologies, my attempts to smooth things over.

"Look, about the freezer..." she started, "I may have overreacted."

"You think?" I said, my voice raspy.

She narrowed her eyes, sensing the change in me. "Don't take that tone with me, Ethan. You broke a fifty-thousand-dollar watch. What was I supposed to do?"

I just looked at her. I saw her not as my wife, but as a stranger. A very cruel stranger.

"I need you to call the contractors for the new office building today," she said, changing the subject, her voice returning to its usual business-like tone. "The permits are delayed, and I don't have time to deal with it."

Even now, after locking me in a freezer, after letting our son abuse me, she still saw me as her assistant. The one who cleans up her messes.

"No," I said simply.

She looked up from her phone, shocked. "What did you say?"

"I said no. Handle it yourself."

I walked away, leaving her sputtering in the kitchen. A small, bitter part of me enjoyed her surprise. It was the first time in five years I had ever refused her anything.

I went into my home office and started sorting through my personal documents. My passport, my birth certificate, my old design portfolios. I thought back to a time, three years ago, when I had almost left. I had discovered an email chain between her and Liam, full of longing and plans for a future that didn't include me. I had packed a bag then, too.

She had found me at the door, her face streaked with tears. "Don't go, Ethan," she had begged, clinging to my arm. "It's not what you think. He's just an old friend. You and Leo are my life. I can't live without you."

Like an idiot, I believed her. I stayed. I see now that her tears weren't for losing me, but for losing her safety net. Her convenient, adoring, bill-paying husband.

The house was quiet for a few hours. I assumed Chloe had gone to work. Around noon, I heard the front door open, followed by laughter. Chloe's bright, happy laugh, a sound she never made with me. And Liam's smooth, charming voice.

I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down.

There they were, in the middle of my living room. Liam had Leo perched on his shoulders. Chloe was looking up at them, her face glowing with a love and adoration I had never seen her direct at me. They looked like a perfect family. The family she wrote about in her journal.

"Okay, champ, let's see if we can touch the ceiling!" Liam said, bouncing Leo up and down.

Leo shrieked with delight. "Higher, Dad, higher!"

The word "Dad" hit me like a physical blow. I felt the air leave my lungs.

I must have made a sound, because all three of them turned and looked up at me. The laughter died. Chloe's smile vanished, replaced by a cold glare. Liam had the decency to look slightly awkward, giving me a small, dismissive wave.

But it was Leo's face that destroyed me all over again. His expression wasn't just angry anymore. It was pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What are you doing here?" Leo yelled from his perch on Liam's shoulders. "Mom said you were sick. Why aren't you staying in your room?"

"Leo, that's enough," Chloe said, but there was no force behind it.

"He's the one who made you sad, Mom!" Leo continued, pointing a small, accusing finger at me. "He broke Dad Liam's present! Why is he still in our house?"

Liam finally set Leo down. He looked at me, a smug, pitying smile on his face. "Take it easy, kiddo. Your... Ethan is just having a bad day." He said my name like it was something unpleasant he had stepped in.

I walked slowly down the stairs, my eyes locked on Chloe. "Our house?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Is that what you told him, Chloe? That this is your house?"

"Don't start, Ethan," she warned.

"I paid for this house," I said, my voice getting louder. "I paid for every piece of furniture in it. I paid for the car you drive and the clothes on your back. I paid off the debts that would have left you with nothing. This is my house."

The old Ethan, the one who would have retreated in tears, was gone. The man standing at the bottom of the stairs was someone new. Someone who had nothing left to lose. The pain inside me was hardening, crystallizing into something cold and sharp. For the first time, I wasn't just heartbroken. I was angry.