Chapter 2

The days after the party were a final, brutal test. Ethan' s neglect became a weapon.

On Tuesday, I was visiting a rural community center for my non-profit. The last train back to Boston was at 10 p.m. At 9:45, Ethan was supposed to pick me up. At 10:15, I was standing on a dark, empty platform, the air growing cold. I called him.

"I can't make it," he said, his voice rushed. "Madison is having a massive panic attack. I have to drive her home."

"A panic attack? About what?"

"Her presentation tomorrow. She' s terrified. I have to be there for her, Chloe. You understand."

I didn't understand. I took a two-hour bus ride and got home after 1 a.m. The apartment was dark. He wasn't even there.

Thursday was our anniversary. Twelve years. He had made reservations at our favorite restaurant, the one where he first told me he loved me. I put on the dress he liked. I sat at the table for an hour, sipping water, watching other couples laugh.

My phone buzzed. A text from Ethan.

"So sorry babe. Emergency. M lost her keys and is locked out of her apartment. Landlord is out of town. I have to help her sort it out."

I paid for my water and left.

The breaking point came on Saturday. The Lumineers were playing a sold-out festival. I had been talking about it for months, how I loved their music, how it was the one thing I wanted to do this summer.

Ethan walked into the living room that morning, a bright, fake smile on his face.

"Good news," he said. "I got us tickets to the festival."

My heart jumped. For a second, a stupid, hopeful part of me thought he was finally trying.

"Really? How?"

"Well," he started, and his face became awkward. "Actually… Madison bought them a while ago. For me and her. As a thank you for my mentorship."

He wouldn't look at me.

"She feels so bad that you wanted to go. She said… she said maybe you could have her ticket? But then she'd have to go alone, and she gets nervous in big crowds."

He was asking me to let his intern take me to the concert he was supposed to take me to. No. He was asking me to decline, so he could go with her without guilt.

"You should go with Madison," I said. My voice was flat. "Don't worry about it."

He looked relieved. "You're the best, Chloe. I knew you'd understand."

He left an hour later, whistling. I watched from the window as Madison pulled up in her cute little convertible to pick him up. They looked happy.

That night, while they were at the concert, I received a photo. It was from a mutual friend. It showed Ethan with his arm around Madison. She was laughing, her head on his shoulder. His text came a minute later.

"Oops, wrong person! Having a blast though!"

It wasn't a mistake. It was a message.

I stood there in our silent apartment and thought about the boy who used to walk me home in college, the one who would get angry if anyone made a joke about my town, about my family. Where did he go? When did he become this cruel stranger?