Chapter 3

3

The next morning, Caleb was actually in the kitchen making breakfast.

When he saw me, he acted as if nothing was wrong. "Go wash up. Breakfast is ready."

He had made a steaming bowl of seafood chowder.

He filled a large bowl for me, looking at me with expectant eyes.

In our four years of marriage, he had never once cooked for me.

I only knew he was capable of it because of Vivienne's social media.

She would post about him making her herbal tea when she had cramps.

She would post about him packing her snacks and sunscreen for trips.

He would surprise her with her favorite ice cream on hot days.

He never forgot her birthday or any minor holiday.

Just like this time, she had probably pouted and said she wanted a signature perfume.

I had forgotten that our tenth anniversary was also Vivienne's birthday.

I stayed up all night scrolling through her feed.

I felt like a thief peeking into someone else's happiness, watching it over and over.

"Lyra, what are you staring at? Eat it while it's hot."

I stirred the bowl with a spoon but didn't take a bite.

Caleb looked confused.

I pointed at the large shrimp in the bowl. "I'm allergic to shellfish, Caleb."

Years ago, I had accidentally eaten shrimp and ended up in the ER.

Caleb had knelt by my hospital bed, a grown man crying like a child.

"Lyra, please don't leave me..." he had begged.

Now, I stood up to leave. His face went pale. "Lyra, if you don't like it, I can make something else. Just tell me what you want."

I shook my head. "Don't bother. I have to get to work."

I glanced at a pink thermal container on the counter.

Inside was more chowder, but the onions and herbs had been meticulously strained out.

That was when the difference between his love for me and his love for her became blindingly clear.

Vivienne had posted last night:

"Can't wait for delicious seafood chowder at the office tomorrow! But I hate the onions and herbs in it."

Caleb's brow snapped together. His patience was finally wearing thin.

He grabbed my arm as I headed for the door. "Lyra, are you seriously still mad about yesterday?"

"The launch was hectic. I didn't have time to call. I gave you the new perfume as an apology, what more do you want?"

"You used to be supportive of my career. What the hell is this tantrum about?"

When I used to be suspicious, he called me annoying.

Now that I didn't care anymore, why was he the one getting angry?

I had spent our marriage being his shadow, his unpaid maid.

I watched him eat his soup, ran his baths, and picked up his dirty laundry late at night.

I would do all that and still get up early to make him breakfast before my own job.

I must have been insane to enjoy it.

It all started changing the night a young girl in a pencil skirt dropped a drunk Caleb off at the door.

She had wide, teary eyes and looked terrified.

"Ma'am, Mr. Sterling drank too much. I just wanted to make sure he got home safe."

The smell of jasmine wafted off her, making my stomach turn.

Before she left, she added me on social media, saying she was the new secretary and didn't want to get fired for making mistakes.

She asked me for a list of Caleb's habits and preferences.

I felt sorry for the girl, so I helped her.

The next morning, as I tied Caleb's tie, I told him not to be so hard on the new girl.

Caleb had looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

Now I realize every red flag was right in front of my face.

I looked at him calmly. "Caleb, I want a div―"

I was cut off by a specific ringtone on his phone.

Caleb let go of my arm and answered immediately.

Vivienne's voice came through, high-pitched and playful.

"Caleb! Where are you? I'm starving at the office!"

"Oh, and I want those specialty donuts. Can you pick some up on your way in?"

His voice turned soft and doting. "You little glutton. If you gain weight, don't you dare blame me."

"I'm young, my metabolism is fast! Anyway, was Lyra mad that you stayed late for my birthday? If she is, I'll buy her dinner to apologize..."