LOGINYou could say that I had two wake up calls that day, but the true depth of their meaning would become clear later, when I got home to check my email.
There were two new messages at the top of my inbox. The first was from Dr. Ryland Winchester and the HR department of Haven Medical Group.
The second one was from the camera I had installed in the car.
My heart skipped. Good news, bad news–which one do I open first?
Exhaling, I chose to look at the offer letter.
It was a generous offer–far more generous than I was expecting. If I took the position, not only would I get an opportunity to work on a fully-funded research team among some of the country’s physicians, including my old mentor Professor Winchester, I would be paid handsomely for my services–three times what I’d make here in NYC for any of the local hospitals.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A reset button on the last three years.
It would be like I never gave up my future to support Misha with his.
Even as I stared at the offer, I couldn’t bring myself to feel the excitement I knew I should.
Part of me wanted to believe I was still capable of this—of stepping back into a world I had walked away from years ago. But another part whispered all the reasons I shouldn’t. I had been out of academia for too long. I was rusty. Behind. Out of place.
Saying yes felt reckless.
And then there was reality. Misha would never give up his career to follow me, and his life was firmly rooted in New York, tied to Carter Tech. California felt impossibly far away—less like a destination and more like a fantasy.
I didn’t know if I could truly separate from Misha. My mind was in complete chaos…
“I’ll write him back tomorrow,” I promised myself as I filed the message away to deal with later. “Tell him I can’t do it. That would be the professional thing to do.”
Sighing, I looked back at my email. The other unopened message was waiting. With a nervous click, I opened it to find hours of footage along with summaries and GPS data of locations and times.
As I scrolled, I noticed a pattern.
Misha visited the same residential complex over and over again on multiple days, always at the same time in the morning, and then later at night. My chest tightened as I compared the night drop off dates to the last week of “late nights” at the office.
They were a perfect match.
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” I said more for myself than for his sake. “It doesn’t mean anything. He could be meeting a client.”
But even as I said this, my heart knew I was fooling myself.
I slept poorly that night, not just because Misha didn’t return until after midnight, but also because my mind couldn’t let go of the events of the day. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could see the pretty blonde smiling up at my husband like he was her everything, and my stomach clenched with anxiety and disgust.
And yet, the next morning, I woke up an hour earlier than normal, left a note saying I was “going for a run” and took my car to the other side of the town–not to the gym, but to the address displayed in the tracking app.
Parking across the street in a narrow alley, I looked down at my watch and waited.
And at 7:45 exactly a very familiar car pulled into the parking garage. A moment later, it drove out again, and following at a discrete distance, I tailed him all the way back to Carter Tech.
Parking just a few cars away, I watched Misha, clean-shaven and smiling, open the passenger side door. Extending his hand, he offered a dainty young woman help as she climbed out of the car in very high heels.
It was the same girl from the coffee shop.
As my husband leaned down to pick up a lunchbag, my heart stopped. I recognized that bag–it was the same one he used to pack for me when we were dating and I was working late nights during my residency.
He made her lunch in my lunchbag. A lunch he used to make for me.
The girl took it graciously, and standing on tip-toe, placed a small, grateful kiss on his cheek.
My blood ran cold as my heart froze to ice.
Watching them walk side by side towards the elevator, I couldn’t stop my feet from following. Taking the next lift up, I pretended to check my phone as I walked out into the reception area, my eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses.
“Well look at that,” one of the receptionists gossiped under her breath as the two women watched my husband enter the main office, his hand on the small of the blonde woman’s back. “That new secretary, Mavis, sure moves fast, doesn’t she?”
Ah, so that’s Mavis.
“Mr. Carter does seem to dote on her,” the other receptionist replied. “She’s only been here a couple of months, but they’re practically inseparable. I wonder what she did to earn that extra attention.”
The two women giggle under their breath.
I don’t need to hear any more to know what they were implying–even the receptionists think he’s sleeping with her.
My stomach feeling sour, I turned away and headed back to my car.
Three years. I have given this man three years of my life.
Now, I need to fight back. I won’t let the sacrifices I made for this family go to waste.
As I thought about it, a plan began to form in my mind.
The large computer mounted to the wall took up most of the surface area and felt far too big for the blacked out individual moving on a simulated background of palm trees swaying in the breeze. His voice was mechanized, as if it were a computer speaking to us and not a man. Connor leaned forward, speaking into a microphone. On his computer, I saw what was being sent to the other party, a similar image only of an avatar that looked like one of those rounded stick-figures from the front of bathroom doors, his background one of tropical rainforests, like one might see in the Amazon.“Is that what he sees?” I hissed quietly to Gerald, who looked up at me over a pair of blue-light glasses. “Does he know there are more of us here?”He nodded, “He can only hear what’s spoken into the microphone. And on his side, our voice sounds like that as well.” Oh. “Always,” He nodded again, this time placing a finger on his lips to indicate that we should be quiet, before placing another finger on h
His body was hot everywhere, like a furnace near blowing, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glassy. He was angry--no he was pissed. And yet, the arms wrapped around me were not stiff as they wrapped around me--they were firm but gentle, as if I were something breakable and precious. The urge to let myself melt, to fall into his embrace and rest my head on his chest was almost overwhelming. I was so sore everywhere. But I wasn't going to admit that to him. "I can walk, you know," I declared, pushing hard against his chest. "Put me down. The conference room is at the end of the hall." "Oh, so you can walk now?" his lip curled. “Because you let that man, that predator, touch you, Ariana. Did you spend the morning with him?” Gerald walked around us. “I’ll get everything set up,” he offered as he walked around us, rushing off ahead to the closed door at the end of the hall. I couldn’t blame him. I’d walk away too if I could. But Allison's big brother was nothing more than a bully. “He re
Fifteen minutes later, the four of us pulled up in front of the San Francisco office of Starbright Productions. It was housed in one of the newer, redesigned buildings in the Bayview neighborhood, a part of SF.When Allison started her company 5 years ago, it was one of the few buildings with shining chrome and glass exteriors. Now Starbright, at only 10 stories tall, while still beautiful, is no longer as impressive or alone. It felt surreal walking underneath a larger than life version of the logo, a planet with three rings angled on its side so that the rings point upward in a perfect, 45° diagonal, replacing the S of Starbright. I’d seen the logo dozens of times, but never taller than a house and wider than a city block. The building was nestled against a hillside, the front facing the bay. When we arrived just after noon, the sun was shining directly above, highlighting the chrome until it was nearly blinding. It looked like something out of this world, like a space ship or a bu
Connor's jaw was so tightly clenched that I could see the throbbing of his veins along his temples. Usually, Connor's temper ran cold--unflinching, unfeeling, and as passionate as a blizzard, but seeing his sister's tears changed him, replacing his casual indifference with the fierce bulldog defensiveness of an overprotective older brother.Allison was not impressed. She's never been the kind of person to need anyone else to fight her battles."Connor," her voice went low and deep, sparkling with an undercurrent of flame. "Mind your own business.""Allison Dawn," he snapped, his voice as brittle as falling ice. "I just want to talk to him. Man to man." "Connor Andrew," she spat, her fiery temper a natural compliment to his frigid anger. "Let me manage my own affairs."Allison stood several inches smaller than her very tall older brother, but when she glared up at him, he was the one who seemed small. Much like her mother, she didn't need size to command a room. Or tell a Davies what
Raising my eyes slowly until I met her gaze, I gave my best friend a hard, steady look.. “Didn’t the two of you just get engaged last night?”“Yeah,” she sniffled, wiping a fresh wave of tears. “And I don’t know what I was expecting, really. He’s been so busy lately. I mean, part of it is my fault,” she admitted. “I have him working on Starbright’s books and contracts, but he’s also still taking side work. He has this whole tech business he’s been running since college, and apparently he never stopped.” “Is it possible that he’s been busy…well…working,” I asked cautiously. “But WHY is he working so much?” She sighed, exasperated. “He’s a professional football player. He has millions of dollars. I…I just can’t help but wonder if he really is working, or if he’s doing…you know…something else.”Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms and pressed my lips together to avoid saying something I’d regret. To me, it sounded like she’s trying to find an excuse, to back out of her engagement
[Ariana]Holding the record to my chest, I scanned the room, looking for any sign of Mr. Huxley. But everything that marked his presence was gone–his jacket, the plates and cups from our snack. Except for this record and note, it would be as if I had imagined him. “Maybe he had an emergency,” I murmured as I considered what could have been so urgent. “Maybe a rocket blew up or something,” I joked as an attempt to ease the discomfort I was feeling at being abandoned without much explanation. For someone who has been working so hard to get my attention, he doesn’t seem all that interested in keeping it.Although, to be fair, I still didn’t know anything real about Houston Huxley. He knows a lot about my past, and has asked me a lot about my future, but I don’t even know where he works. And that felt strange. Really strange. Not because of how familiar we are, but because of how imbalanced this dynamic was becoming between us.Is it because he’s trying to keep everything close to his
The last time I stood at the main entrance to Manhattan General Hospital, it had been for my internship four years ago. That year, working by Dr. Winchester's side, was pivotal in shaping my future--without it, I wouldn't have been able to finish my degree or start my life over once my marriage fell
“I don’t care,” I snorted, my shoulders shaking with quiet laughter as I pulled out my key. “What Dr. Clark does with his time, and his lips, is none of my business.” Just like what I do with my life is none of his. And yet the insufferable man won’t stop pestering me. What was that earlier with hi
As I marched towards the train station, my mind wouldn’t let the situation slide. Someone was interfering with my life. But who?Angry and frustrated, I called Allison. “Please tell me this wasn’t you?” I demanded with a touch of self-righteous anger. “I can’t believe you’d do something like this wi
That evening, Misha came home looking unusually cheerful.Putting on a brave face, I smiled, waiting to see what had him in such a good mood.“Sweetheart,” Misha took my hands in his “This weekend is our anniversary. We should take a trip to celebrate,” he paused, as if thinking and suggested. “Ho







