Chapter 3

3.

That afternoon, once the alcohol had cleared my head, I went to see a lawyer.

I had the divorce papers drawn up.

Luckily, we didn't have children. Aside from the assets, we could sever ties relatively easily.

When I got home with the documents, Silas called to say he was going on a business trip.

By that night, the anonymous messages started.

It was a flurry of photos showing Quinn and Silas together.

I didn't need to guess who was sending them. Quinn wanted me to know.

I saw them at hot springs, skiing, and dining at five-star restaurants.

It didn't hurt as much as I expected.

In our eleven years together, we had done all those things.

We traveled every year―Aspen, Paris, the Northern Lights in Iceland.

Silas used to say he only wanted to see the world if I was by his side.

Now, he was just recycling our memories with a newer model.

Maybe eleven years was just too long.

Maybe he just got bored.

I tried to rationalize it, but my chest still throbbed with a dull ache.

He was the only man I had ever truly loved.

Silas returned three days later.

He brought me a gift, as usual―a diamond necklace that must have cost a fortune.

Whenever he stayed out late or traveled, he'd bring a bribe.

He called them "apology gifts" for not being the perfect husband.

He said he had to make up for the time he wasn't there to hold me.

In the past, I would have been thrilled.

Now, I couldn't even force a smile.

"I love it," I lied.

Silas didn't notice my lack of enthusiasm.

Or maybe he was just too exhausted from his time with Quinn to care.

"Glad you like it. I'm going to hit the shower."

He disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time he came out, I was already in bed, my back turned toward him.

We didn't speak.

He pulled me into his arms, but we were miles apart.

Then came my birthday.

Silas threw a lavish party, just like he always did.

The decorations and the cake were impeccable.

Our friends were all there, laughing and congratulating us on such a perfect marriage.

But when it was time for cake, the scene from the prologue repeated.

I heard his friend ask in German about the girl on the side.

I heard Silas admit he hadn't touched me in months.

I heard him say Quinn was pregnant and that he was going to pay her to go away and have the baby because I didn't like kids.

I clenched my fists.

I let the tears fall, pretending I was overwhelmed with joy.

Silas asked what was wrong, looking concerned.

"The cake you made is so good. I'm just so happy," I whispered.

In that moment, I hated that I had learned German for him.