Chapter 2

"You have to be more careful, David. She almost looked at you funny today. What if she suspects something?" Eleanor' s voice was a sharp whisper.

"Relax, Mom. She' s a wreck. She sees what she wants to see, and right now, she wants to see her dead fiancé' s brother," he said, his voice dripping with a confidence that made my stomach churn. It was him. It was David.

The man I thought was gone forever was alive. My grief was a joke.

"But what about Aisha?" Eleanor asked. "Her illness… is this all worth it?"

"Aisha is dying," David said, his voice softening with a tenderness he used to reserve for me. "She has a few months, maybe a year. I couldn' t leave her. But I couldn' t break Sarah' s heart either, not with the baby on the way. This was the only way. Once Aisha is gone, Mark Reed disappears, and David Reed is miraculously found, an amnesia victim. Sarah will be so relieved she won' t ask any questions."

He had a plan. A cold, calculated plan to return to me after his mistress was dead.

I was his backup plan. His safety net.

I finally understood. The man who was supposed to be my husband, the father of my child, faked his own death to be with another woman. And his mother, the woman who held me while I cried, was in on the entire disgusting lie.

My body started to tremble uncontrollably. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my stomach as a sharp pain shot through me.

I couldn't breathe. I scrambled for my phone, my fingers clumsy and shaking. I needed my brother. I needed Chris.

David' s voice droned on from the study, a faint note of guilt in his tone. "I do feel bad for Sarah. She' s a good woman."

"She' ll be fine," Eleanor said dismissively. "She has the baby to think about."

The pain in my abdomen intensified, a physical manifestation of the agony ripping through my soul. It felt like my insides were being twisted into knots.

I made it back to my room, locking the door behind me. I slid down to the floor, curling into a ball.

My phone rang. It was Chris.

"Sarah? You okay? You sent a blank text."

I tried to speak, but only a choked sob came out. My throat was tight, the betrayal a physical thing lodged inside me.

"Sarah, what' s wrong? I' m coming over." He didn't wait for an answer.

I could hear them moving downstairs. A woman' s light footsteps joined David's. Aisha was here. In my house.

A few minutes later, I heard a soft giggle from the hallway. I forced myself to my feet, my hand on the doorknob. I had to see.

I opened the door a crack. Aisha was leaning against the wall, directly across from my room. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair and a smug smile on her face. She wasn't sick. She was glowing with health and victory.

She was whispering something to David, who was in the guest room he was using as "Mark." The sounds coming from that room, soft moans and rustling sheets, made me want to vomit.

Her eyes flickered up and met mine through the crack in the door.

Her smile widened. It was a deliberate, cruel look. A look that said, I have him. You have nothing.

She knew I was watching. She wanted me to watch.

My mind went blank with rage. Then, a chilling calm settled over me. I slowly, deliberately, closed my door until it clicked shut.

The game was on.

Later that night, there was a soft knock.

"Sarah?" It was David, playing the part of Mark. "Are you alright? I heard you crying earlier."

I took a deep breath, pushing down the inferno of hate. I opened the door.

"I' m fine," I said, my voice hoarse. "Just… thinking about David."

His face filled with fake sympathy. "I know it' s hard. He loved you very much."

The hypocrisy was suffocating. It took everything in me not to scream.

"You look so much like him," I whispered, looking directly into his eyes.