Chapter 2

2

I froze while putting my water glass down. The sheer audacity was mind-blowing.

He had blocked my number. How was I supposed to reach him?

I waited for two hours, and he claimed he looked for one? I didn't bother calling out his lie.

"If you want me to contact you, maybe take me off your block list first," I said coldly.

He bit his lip, his anger deflating slightly. He walked into the living room and tossed a soggy, boxless cake onto the table.

"It's late. The shop ran out of boxes. I had to go to five different places to find this."

I looked at the matcha cake. His lies were getting lazier by the minute.

It didn't matter. I didn't like sweets anymore. Without the sentiment, the cake just looked nauseatingly sugary.

My phone screen lit up with a notification. Kinsley had just posted a photo of a blueberry cake.

Her caption: "I don't like sweets, but I love how sweet you are. #Latenighttreat"

I wanted to laugh at the irony, but I didn't have the energy.

"Thanks," I said. "It's a lot of work. Throw it away."

His face twisted in rage. His eyes turned bloodshot.

"Are you insane? I ran around in the rain for you, and you say throw it away?"

"You're treating me like a dog! Is this all because I gave a bonus to an employee? How long are you going to milk this? I'm the boss; it's my right! I haven't even settled the score for you harassing her yet!"

I pressed my hand against my throbbing head. The rain had given me a fever.

"You're overthinking it," I whispered. "I don't have the time or interest to play games. While you were out, I was―"

He cut me off with a roar.

"Enough! It's always the same with you! I've never seen a woman so jealous. Maybe if you spent this much time on your own career, you wouldn't be so pathetic. Your heart is the size of a needle. Being married to you is making me lose my mind!"

In the past, I would have screamed back. I would have begged him to tell me he only loved me.

Not anymore. We were adults. If love has to be interrogated, does it even exist?

I knew he wouldn't believe me if I told him the truth.

"If that's what you want to think, there's nothing I can do," I said.

For the first time in five years, I chose the cold shoulder. I stood up and headed for the bedroom.

He didn't follow. He sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. I could hear him stifling a laugh.

Then he went into the bathroom, likely to make a secret call.

I grabbed my blankets and started moving to the guest room. I ran right into Marcus as he stepped out of the bathroom.

He looked at the bedding in my arms and scowled.

"What is this? You're sleeping in the guest room now?"

"I don't even complain about how haggard you've looked lately, and you're pulling this? You think you're still Aria Sterling, the college queen? There are plenty of women outside who'd kill to be in your spot!"

"If you can't sleep, don't bother texting me!"

I didn't reply. I just went into the guest room. Moving the heavy blankets pulled at my stitches, making me wince in pain.

Usually, when he wasn't home, I would toss and turn. I used to call him until he threw a bottle of sleeping pills at me.

I had grown used to the medication. But tonight, I didn't want any drugs interfering with my recovery.

Surprisingly, I fell asleep instantly. Everything I thought I couldn't survive turned out to be easy once I stopped caring.

The next day, I spent the morning finding a divorce lawyer.

At the same time, Marcus's company posted a video of a celebration.

In the video, people were spraying champagne. Marcus was shielding Kinsley from the spray, his own back getting soaked.

The jacket draped over Kinsley's shoulders looked familiar. It was the gift Marcus gave me for our anniversary last year.

The gift wasn't mine anymore. Neither was he.