Chapter 1

1.

I went downstairs to take out the trash.

That's when I saw it. A Cadillac Escalade, rocking hard.

In the passenger seat, my husband's management trainee was making out with some guy. Full-on.

I almost admired the audacity. Then I saw the man's hand resting on the window frame. A wedding band. Engraved.

C&M.

My name is Claire. My husband is Miles Morrow.

A cold wave of nausea rolled through my stomach.

So that's how it is.

A man can say he loves you while undressing in someone else's car.

I took an Uber to the county clerk's office.

"Ms. Morrow, are you sure you want to change your name? You'll need to update your degrees, your IDs, your passport. Everything."

I nodded. "I'm sure."

The clerk tried again. "Legal name changes are quite involved for adults. And your current name is lovely. Perhaps you'd like to think it over?"

"No."

I signed the consent form. "Please proceed."

"Alright. The requested name is… Vera Rose. Correct?"

"Yes."

Vera. A new beginning.

Rose. Wild and resilient.

This was the identity I was giving myself.

Not Mrs. Morrow. Not anyone's wife.

Just me.

I asked the clerk, "Can I update my passport now?"

"Yes. Take this certified court order downstairs to the passport window. They'll handle it."

I changed my passport as fast as humanly possible.

Outside the clerk's office, the Chicago skyline stood directly across the street.

The giant screen on the building was playing an interview with Miles Morrow, CEO of Blackstone Group.

The host had picked up on his little habit. She smiled and asked, "Mr. Morrow, I notice you keep touching your ring. It looks like a simple platinum band. Is there something special about it?"

Miles smiled, soft and warm. He held up his hand. "It's my wedding ring."

"Oh! I apologize. I assumed someone of your stature would have a Harry Winston diamond. Several carats, at least."

Miles said, "I made this ring myself. Shaped it, polished it. I engraved our initials inside the band."

"Wow. I can see two sets of letters. M and…"

"C. My wife's name is Claire."

"Wow. Your wife must be the luckiest woman alive. She must have saved the universe in a past life to marry a man like you."

Miles just said, "Actually, I'm the one who saved the universe to marry her."

The people around me were full of envy.

The only person who felt nothing?

Me.

I glanced at the screen. Once. Then I looked away.

Miles and I had been genuinely in love once. Fifteen years. High school to the altar.

In our classmates' eyes, we were the couple voted "most likely to last forever" in the yearbook.

Until two months ago.

I got a Snapchat from a stranger. A woman.

She looked barely twenty. She was wearing a seductive slip and stockings. Her neck and chest were covered in marks. Purple and red.

She'd clearly just come from a very active session.

She threw up a peace sign at the camera.

On her finger, she wore a platinum ring. A size too big. A man's ring.

Engraved with letters: M&C.

Later, I met the girl in Miles's office.

Her name was Brooklyn. Fresh out of Wharton. Twenty-one years old. The company's shiny new management trainee.

My mind went blank with a roar of static.

Management trainee. What a loaded title. This wasn't just an affair. It was an abuse of power. A sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to detonate. And he was completely oblivious.

I wanted to walk in and ask him: Is sleeping with the boss part of the employee benefits package now?

But I didn't.

That Snapchat told me everything I needed to know.

I walked away from the crowd and their sighs of envy. I went straight to a pawn shop.

When I pulled the ring off my left hand, it felt like peeling off a layer of skin.

"Ma'am, would you like to sell it or have it melted down?"

"This ring. Melt it."

"There's an engraving on it. It probably means something. Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes. Please do it quickly."

Half an hour later, I came home with a neatly wrapped jewelry box.

Miles didn't get back until after ten.

He was holding a bouquet. "Sorry, Claire. Work has been crazy. I brought you your favorite. Lily of the valley. Do you like them?"

He leaned in close. I caught the scent of a woman's perfume on him. YSL Black Opium.

I turned my head slightly. My eyes landed on a small bite mark on his Adam's apple.

And on the collar of his Brooks Brothers shirt. A lipstick stain. Bright red. Unmistakable.

I stared at that red smear. I didn't say a word.

So this was what "working late" looked like.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

I pushed him away. "Just tired."

"Let me carry you to bed."

He bent down, ready to scoop me up.

I pushed him away again. "You're tired too. Take a shower. Get some rest."

Miles reached for my hand. Then he stopped. His expression shifted.

"Claire. Where's your ring?"