Chapter 2

Out of Matthew's line of sight, that so-called "young lady" shot me a smug look.

We were only two months apart, but somehow, in his eyes, Melanie was the sweet, innocent lady, while I was just the washed-up woman whose reputation meant nothing to him.

Keeping my distance from the two of them, I turned slightly to Matthew. "So you're only looking out for Melanie because she's like a sister to you, right?"

He paused for a beat before nodding.

I pressed my lips together and finally asked the question that had been weighing on my mind for far too long. "Who's more important—your sister or your wife?"

Matthew blew up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I scoffed. "On our first anniversary, I made a wish over the candles with my eyes closed. And when I opened them, you were gone. All because she was scared to be alone during a blackout.

"She texted you, and you just dropped everything and left me alone. I didn't realize a 'sister' could outrank a wife. Maybe I should go get myself a 'brother' too—"

"Aurelia!"

Matthew cut me off mid-sentence, his expression downright stormy.

He soothed Melanie, who was sobbing like her world had ended, then turned to me and shouted, "If you can't talk like a decent person, then get out! Does she have to die just to prove she's innocent? You're wicked!"

"I get it now," I said.

I didn't even look back as I slammed the door shut, more sure than ever that this marriage needed to end.

Word got out that I was asking for a divorce, and Matthew's mother called me just to chew me out.

"Matthew's busting his ass running that giant company by himself. He barely has time to grab a bite. The least you could do as his wife is have a little sympathy. But instead, you're making things harder for him.

"Men fool around. It doesn't mean anything. Your spot isn't going anywhere, so what are you so worked up about?"

My fingers curled into fists, nails biting deep as that cold, hollow feeling spread through my chest.

Back then, to make Melanie's news story stick, Matthew snuck seven or eight guys into my room while I was fast asleep.

Then he showed up with his whole crew—family, friends, and a bunch of reporters—to stage this big dramatic scene, like he'd just caught me red-handed.

"Just take the heat for Melanie, alright? I'll fix it later," he'd said.

But after waiting a month, all I got was a flood of hate comments and an army of paid trolls tearing me apart online.

I hurled my phone at the wall and collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.

I remembered the days right after Matthew and I graduated. We had nothing then, nothing but each other.

We were so broke we could barely afford food, and he told me he wanted to start his own business. Of course, I backed him all the way.

I juggled three jobs to help him get it off the ground. I tagged along on out-of-town trips to help close deals. I'd wine and dine clients until late, drinking so much I ended up puking blood, and he was always there with me.

He swore he'd make something of himself. And once he did, he'd marry me. And I believed him. That promise kept me by his side year after year, through every season.

Eventually, he made it. The company took off, and he popped the question. I said yes, totally over the moon.

At first, our marriage was sweet and stable. But then everything went sideways when Matthew brought Melanie, his childhood sweetheart, from their hometown and set her up close to us.

Even when I landed in the hospital, he ditched me to stay with her, just because she had her period.

We fought over it. And after that, something shifted. Since then, there was this wall between us that never came down.