Chapter 2

Once I was back in our apartment, the one I had designed with so much love, every object felt like an accusation. The photos on the wall of us smiling on vacation, the coffee mug he used every morning, the half-finished architectural model on my desk-it was all part of the elaborate stage for his betrayal.

I went straight to his office, my movements stiff and robotic. His laptop was open on his desk. We shared everything, including passwords. It was a testament to our trust, a trust he had used as a weapon against me. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, a deep, primal need for proof warring with the desire to run and never look back.

The need for proof won.

I opened his email. It didn't take long to find. A folder labeled "S.H. Wedding." My blood ran cold. S.H. Sophia Hayes. I knew the name. She was the daughter of a tech mogul, a name that was always in the society pages.

I clicked it open. There it was. A pdf of a wedding invitation. 'Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Hayes request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their daughter Sophia to Liam Miller.' The date was two weeks away. There were catering contracts, florist bills, and a flight confirmation for a honeymoon in Bora Bora.

I felt a physical pain in my chest, a heavy pressure that made it hard to draw a full breath. I scrolled down, my vision blurring with tears I refused to let fall. Then I saw it-an email chain between Liam and his father.

"She' s getting suspicious," Liam had written a week ago. "I had to buy her that necklace to keep her happy. It's getting expensive managing her expectations."

"Just hold on for a few more weeks," his father replied. "Once the deal with Hayes Consolidated is signed and the wedding is over, you can do whatever you want. Just don't let her ruin this for us."

I pushed back from the desk so hard the chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor. I was an expectation to be managed. A problem to be handled. The necklace he' d given me for my birthday last week, the one he said was because he loved me more than anything, was just a tool to keep me quiet.

My phone buzzed on the desk. Liam's name flashed on the screen. A text message appeared. "Hey, you okay? You just disappeared. Worried about you. Call me."

The hypocrisy was suffocating. I wanted to smash the phone, to scream until my throat was raw. But I did nothing. I just stared at the screen, at his fake concern. Another text came through. "I love you." Those three words, once the source of my greatest joy, were now a disgusting lie.

I stood up and walked to the living room. On the mantelpiece was a framed photo of us from our first anniversary. We were so young, so full of hope. I picked it up, my thumb tracing his smiling face. With a sudden, violent surge of energy, I threw it against the wall. The glass shattered, echoing the shattering of my heart. The sound was satisfying, a small release of the storm raging inside me. That was the beginning. I would erase him, piece by piece, until nothing was left.