Chapter 1

1

Mark and I were married for six years.

Then he got himself a little songbird.

She was pretty, sure.

The type that shrunk back if you raised your voice.

So, of course, Mark never yelled at her.

But this little bird got bold.

She came chirping to my front door.

That's when Mark lost it.

He read her the riot act, good and proper.

The next day, she sent me a picture.

It was her neck, covered in hickeys.

"Oh, honey," the caption read.

"Mark can be so rough, I'm scared."

I stared at that picture for a long time.

...

Yesterday, some girl named Brittany showed up at my office.

She said she was Mark's girlfriend.

She wanted me to step aside.

My first thought was, "Huh?"

The second was, "Mark's cheating on me."

Brittany had this bright-eyed, spoiled brat air about her.

I was still trying to process everything.

Then she threw a cup of lukewarm coffee all over me.

"Hello? Are you even listening? I'm telling you to divorce Mark. I'm going to marry him."

The brown liquid stained my new white dress.

My face was a mess.

I probably looked like a drowned rat.

Brittany wasn't done.

She rubbed her stomach, like she was trying to get attention.

"I'm pregnant."

"I want my baby to have a name."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't be bothering you."

"I know you and Mark are childhood sweethearts. You've been married for six years."

"But you've been together too long."

"Mark only sees you as family, not a wife."

"Be smart."

"Leave him on your own."

"I might be able to convince him to give you a nice little settlement."

"Otherwise, don't blame me when he kicks you to the curb."

Mark kicking *me* to the curb?

I laughed.

Brittany pointed at me.

She called me a psycho.

She wanted to know what was so funny.

I looked her right in the eye.

She had this innocent, porcelain doll face.

But there wasn't much going on behind it.

"Honey, does Mark know you're here?" I asked her.

Brittany's face went red.

She started yelling at me.

I tilted my head.

I looked past her at Mark.

He was stomping towards us.

His face was like thunder.

He grabbed Brittany's arm and slapped her hard.

Her face instantly swelled up.

A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

She looked at Mark, wounded and pathetic.

"Mark, how could you?"

She started to sob, like some delicate flower.

But Mark didn't even flinch.

His eyes were cold.

He told her to get lost.

Brittany, all wronged and weepy, stumbled off.

As soon as she was gone, Mark pulled out a tissue.

He knelt down, all concerned, and gently wiped the coffee off my face.

"Babe, don't listen to her."

"She's crazy."

"I don't have anything to do with her. She's making things up."

I stared into his eyes.

They were deep and dark, like pools you could fall into.

I couldn't see a flicker of guilt.

My eyes stung.

I stroked his face.

"Mark, tell me who she is."

Mark's lips trembled.

His eyes got watery.

He wouldn't tell me.

I kept pushing, until my face was flushed and I couldn't breathe.

That's when he panicked.

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry, Amy."

"It's my fault."

"Hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want."

"Just don't cry. You can't cry."

He still remembered I couldn't cry.

I gave a bitter laugh.

My heart was a tangled mess.