Chapter 4

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "I called you more than seventy times! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

Then her voice rose another notch.

"Do you even remember what today is?"

I watched her unravel without feeling a thing.

There had been nights when I'd asked her those same questions. Nights she'd spent with Tristan while I called and called, terrified and furious and desperate for an explanation.

All I'd ever gotten back was a weary sigh.

"Eli, stop making a scene. Could you be a little more understanding? Have some compassion for once."

I'd thought if I were more considerate, more patient, more accommodating, she'd eventually appreciate me.

Looking back, it had only ever been wishful thinking.

"I've been busy," I said.

Even I barely recognized how calm I sounded.

Sloane blinked. Guilt flickered across her face.

"Eli, did you see something yesterday? Because you're misunderstanding. Tristan and I..."

I raised a hand to stop her. Then I reached into my bag for the property-settlement papers.

Years ago, Sloane had told me she never wanted us to use the word "breakup." If I ever truly decided to leave, she said, I should sell the house. That would tell her everything she needed to know.

I was about to slide the papers across the table when she called my name.

"Eli!"

She lifted an elegantly wrapped box and opened it carefully. Inside was a pair of diamond cuff links.

"I had these custom-made. For our fifth anniversary."

I didn't take them. My gaze had drifted to two movie tickets tucked into a corner of the coffee table.

Before Sunrise.

It was the first movie we'd watched together, at a private screening room where we'd gone on our first date.

That night, Sloane had squeezed my hand and said, "We'll watch it again on every anniversary. Promise."

For years, I'd taken that promise seriously. I started planning her gifts a month in advance. I'd been terrified of letting even one minute of our day go uncelebrated.

This year, I'd forgotten our anniversary entirely.

I finally took the cuff links and put the box on the table.

"Thanks. I've been busy. I didn't get you anything."

Sloane looked at me, and I saw the realization land. I hadn't simply forgotten a gift. I'd forgotten the day itself.

Her lashes trembled.

Her gaze took in my neatly cut hair, my business suit, and finally my bare ring finger.

"It's okay," she said, forcing a smile. "Your birthday's coming up. We can celebrate then. I already have the reservation at Starlight."

Her voice softened, slipping into that coaxing tone she always used after she'd hurt me.

"You said you wanted to go there for your birthday. It took me three months to get us a table."

She waited, watching my face.

At last, I nodded and slipped the papers back into my bag.

Fine. I'd wait until my birthday.

After five years together, I supposed we could have one final dinner before saying goodbye.

* * *

On my birthday, Sloane had clearly made an effort. She wore a new outfit and carried an enormous bouquet of lilies.

But the smile on her face faltered the moment she saw what I was wearing.