Chapter 4

Adrian spun toward the door and crossed the foyer in three quick strides.

Chloe stood on the front step.

She flashed him a sweet smile and gave him a playful wink. "Mr. Shaw, I'm all ready."

One of Adrian's hands stayed on the door while the other rubbed nervously at the seam of his pants.

I knew that gesture.

He'd done the same thing around me when we first met. It was how his shyness showed.

Chloe leaned past him to look inside. Her gaze settled on me.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Could you bring me a pair of slippers?”

I stared at her. "What?"

She covered her mouth as though she'd only just recognized me. Her lashes fluttered.

"Oh—Ms. Wells. I'm so sorry. I thought you were the housekeeper."

She started to duck her head, but Adrian stopped her.

"It's fine. That wasn't your fault."

The words drifted through the foyer as lightly as dust.

Not her fault.

Whose was it, then? Mine?

I looked at myself in the mirror across the room: red-rimmed eyes, colorless lips, tangled hair, and the same faded pajamas I'd worn for five years.

"The temperature dropped. Aren't you going to freeze dressed like that?" Adrian reached up and tugged Chloe’s neckline a little higher.

She pouted and pulled it back down. "Off-the-shoulder is in right now. It's called fashion." Then she turned brightly toward me. "Isn't that right, Ms. Wells?"

Before I could answer, Adrian scoffed.

"What would she know about fashion? She's a housewife who never goes anywhere."

Chloe burst out laughing.

Humiliation burned across my face. I locked my jaw and refused to let the tears fall.

They grabbed their suitcases and started outside.

I followed Adrian and held out the house key.

"Take this."

He frowned at it. "Why?"

I didn't answer. I just held it closer.

Adrian studied my face as if he might finally ask the question that mattered.

"Achoo." Chloe gave a delicate sneeze.

He turned toward her at once.

The door slammed in my face, missing my outstretched hand by less than an inch. Adrian never even hesitated.

I stood there until my heartbeat slowed, then turned and climbed the stairs.

Adrian had been home for a single morning, but every room bore evidence of him. His socks lay beside the bed. Half-eaten toast sat on the dining table. A damp towel had been crushed into a ball and abandoned by the bathroom sink.

He'd seen the leaking pipe and ignored it.

Wet footprints ran from the bathroom into the bedroom, the office, and all the way down the stairs.

For the first time in my life, I called a cleaning service.

While the cleaners erased Adrian’s mess, I packed everything I meant to take.

I went to the office for my passport and found a notebook in the desk drawer. Its pages were crowded with entries about Chloe.

Chloe's birthday—budget: $30,000.

Santorini trip—budget: $45,000.

Auction event for Chloe—budget: $750,000.

Pages and pages of plans.

My name appeared once.

Household expenses—budget: $450 per month.

A bitter smile pulled at my mouth.

To Adrian, I was nothing more than an unpaid housekeeper—someone who existed to serve him.

I required no affection, no thought, and no effort.

By the time I shipped the last box, the clock was chiming the hour.

Chloe was still flooding social media with photographs: the two of them embracing under a wall of bougainvillea, kissing on a terrace above the caldera.

In her newest post, Adrian wore a suit and knelt in front of her, holding up a ring while she posed in a white wedding dress.

The Santorini you dreamed of for years is finally mine.

The taunt couldn't have been clearer.

I had thought I would feel rage, grief, or humiliation.

Instead, when I pressed a hand to my chest, I found there was no pain left at all.

I turned off my phone, slid the house key under the doormat, and took one last look at the home where I'd lived for less than two years.

Then I walked away.

Several days later, Adrian finally saw Chloe's wedding-dress post.

Unease stirred in him. He almost asked her to delete it.

Chloe leaned close and pointed at the photograph. "Don't I look beautiful?"

Her smile was so delighted that Adrian swallowed the words.

"Beautiful," he said.

He was still working out how he'd explain everything to Nora when Rachel's new post appeared on his feed.

Welcome to our newest violinist, Nora Wells!

The photograph showed a familiar figure bent over her instrument, wholly absorbed in the music.

Behind her rose the unmistakable white sails of the Sydney Opera House.