Chapter 2

"So, I' m the right hand," I said, the words tasting like ash.

I tried for a laugh, a bitter, broken sound that died in my throat.

"What is Chloe then? The whole damn body?"

Liam didn' t even have the decency to look ashamed. He just shrugged, already turning to leave.

"Don' t be dramatic, Ava. It just is what it is."

My eyes landed on the coffee table. Sitting on top of a stack of my architectural magazines was a glossy brochure. It was for a small house upstate, one with a big porch and a yard. A place we had talked about for years, a place I had sketched designs for in a notebook I kept hidden in my nightstand. A place for our future.

He had brought the brochure home last week, tossing it on the table with a casual, "Looks nice, huh?"

I had let myself dream.

The irony was so sharp, it hurt to breathe. He was planning his wedding home with another woman while letting me design a fantasy house for us.

"The keys, Ava," he said again, his voice sharp with impatience, as if I hadn' t already given them to him. He meant the ones on my personal keyring. The ones that had been there for six years.

He wanted it all. He wanted to strip me of every last piece of the life we had shared, right here, right now.

Slowly, I unhooked the two keys from my ring. The little brass one for the main door, the silver one for the deadbolt. They clinked together softly as I dropped them into his outstretched palm.

He curled his fingers around them, his expression unreadable.

"Thanks."

A hot, burning shame washed over me. I felt disgusting, used. Like something to be discarded now that its purpose was served. My face felt hot, my skin crawling. I had given this man my youth, my dreams, my unwavering loyalty.

And he had repaid me with this. This casual, brutal eviction from my own life.

He pulled out his phone again.

"What' s the passcode for the door lock?"

I stared at him. "You know the code. It' s my birthday."

He nodded, not looking at me, his thumbs tapping on the screen. "I know. I' m changing it. Just want to make sure I have the old one right."

He was locking me out. Before I had even packed a single box. Before I had even fully processed the end of my world.

A moment later, the smart lock on the door made a series of electronic beeps, followed by a pleasant female voice.

"Password successfully changed."

The sound echoed in the silent apartment.

It was the sound of a door slamming shut not just on our home, but on my entire life as I knew it.

He pocketed his phone and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

I was left standing alone in the middle of our living room, which was no longer our living room. It was his.