Chapter 2

The next morning, Eleanor walked into the kitchen. Ethan was already there, leaning against the counter, sipping coffee. He was dressed in an expensive suit, looking every bit the powerful businessman he had become. He smelled faintly of a perfume that wasn' t hers. It was floral and sweet, the same scent Isabella always wore.

"You' re up early," he commented, not looking at her. His eyes were on his phone.

"I have an early flight," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. She went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water.

His head snapped up. "A flight? Where are you going?"

"New York. For a new job."

He frowned, a flicker of something-annoyance, maybe-in his eyes. "You' re taking a job in New York? When were you going to tell me?"

"I' m telling you now," she said simply. The old Eleanor would have apologized, would have explained herself, would have sought his approval. The new Eleanor didn' t care what he thought.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and Isabella breezed in, carrying shopping bags. She was radiant, her smile bright and her eyes sparkling. She walked straight to Ethan and kissed him on the cheek.

"Morning, darling," she chirped, then her eyes landed on Eleanor. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before becoming even wider, a mask of polite friendliness. "Oh, Eleanor. You' re here."

"I live here," Eleanor stated, her voice cold. "For now."

Isabella' s eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh, is something wrong?"

Ethan shot Eleanor a warning look. He stepped forward, putting a hand on Isabella' s arm. "Eleanor is just leaving for a trip." He turned to Eleanor, his voice low and firm. "Can you go upstairs? Isabella and I need to talk."

He was pushing her out of her own kitchen. He was hiding her, as if she were a shameful secret.

His friends used to joke about it. They' d see her at a party, always quiet in the background while Ethan was the center of attention, and they' d say, "Ethan, you keep your lovely wife so well hidden! We barely see her." They thought it was a joke about him being protective. Only Eleanor knew the truth. He wasn' t protecting her; he was sidelining her. She was the placeholder, the convenient wife he kept in the background while his heart was still waiting for Isabella.

"Of course," Eleanor said, her voice devoid of emotion. She turned and walked away, not looking back. She heard Isabella' s soft laugh behind her, a triumphant sound that echoed in the silent house.

Back in the bedroom, she saw the jade bracelet lying on her dresser. It was a gift from Ethan' s grandmother, given to her on their wedding day. The old woman had held her hand and said, "This is for the woman who will stand by Ethan' s side forever."

Eleanor picked it up. The stone was cool against her skin. For a moment, she remembered all the years she had stood by him. She remembered a time when they were just kids, before Isabella, before the money and the power.

They had grown up next door to each other. He was her protector, her hero. When she was ten, a fire started in her kitchen. She was trapped in her room, terrified, smoke filling her lungs. Ethan, only twelve himself, had climbed a tree and broken her window to pull her out. He still had a faint scar on his forearm from a falling, burning piece of wood.

When she was fifteen, a group of boys from school had cornered her, taunting her about her asthma. Ethan had appeared out of nowhere. He fought them off, getting a broken leg in the process, but he never let them touch her. He was the one who always made sure she had her inhaler, who would check on her when he heard her coughing at night. He had meticulously cared for her, his affection so intense, so possessive, that she mistook it for love.

She had fallen for him completely, a deep, all-consuming love that defined her entire youth. On her eighteenth birthday, trembling with hope, she had confessed her feelings. She told him she loved him, that she had always loved him.

His rejection was gentle but absolute. "Eleanor," he had said, his face full of a pity she hated, "You' re like a sister to me. I' m sorry. I love someone else."

That someone else was Isabella, the girl he met during his first week of college. Their romance became a campus legend. They were the golden couple, beautiful and deeply in love. He even proposed to her in front of the entire student body, a grand, romantic gesture that was talked about for years. Eleanor had watched from the sidelines, her heart breaking over and over again. She had tried to move on, to date other people, but her world had always revolved around Ethan.