Chapter 4

Even during our honeymoon, Nathan had refused to share food off the same plate with me. He always ordered his own dish and made a point of using separate utensils. He said cross-contamination bothered him, that sharing utensils killed his appetite.

Yet here he was, eating with obvious pleasure.

I knew I should turn around and leave, but the inn's lakeside bonfire gathering only happened once a week, and I wasn't about to let them ruin something I'd been looking forward to.

I started scanning the crowd for a spot far from where they were sitting.

But Nathan noticed me first. He stood up and walked over, his tone already edged with annoyance.

"What are you doing here? I told you I'd take you next time."

I didn't answer. My eyes had caught on something else—matching custom sweatshirts that both he and Sienna were wearing.

Years ago, I'd told him that if we ever made it to Lake Tahoe, I wanted to get matching hoodies with our names embroidered on them, the kind couples wore in those cheesy vacation photos.

Now I was looking at the back of his sweatshirt. Stitched across the shoulders in clean, white thread was a single name: Sienna.

She must have noticed where I was looking because she turned slightly, letting the firelight catch the name embroidered across the back of hers: Nathan.

I felt something cold and distant settle in my chest.

I wasn’t surprised, not even a little.

Nathan must have realized what I'd seen because he shifted his shoulders away from me and looked elsewhere.

"Sienna and I were passing through on business. I know you've always wanted to come here, so I thought I'd scope it out for you first."

He paused, then added in the tone of someone offering a favor, "Well, since you're here now, you might as well sit with us."

Then he turned to Sienna. "Push our flights back two days."

Sienna shot me a quick, irritated glance before letting out a light laugh.

"She really picked the perfect timing, didn't she? Showing up on the last night of the trip."

"But Nathan, I really do need to get back for that investor call on Monday. Why don't you just change your ticket? You can stay and show her around."

She was already pulling out her phone.

Nathan's expression tightened slightly, and then, exactly as I expected, he said, "Actually, don't bother. Work comes first."

"The timing really isn't great. We'll come back another time—the company's about to go public, and we can't afford any distractions right now."

Sienna turned to look at me with clear satisfaction in her eyes.

Nathan, clearly anticipating some kind of jealous outburst, added quickly, "Book her on the same flight as us. Put her seat next to mine."

Before Sienna could respond, I spoke.

"That's not necessary. I'm—"

A sudden burst of music and cheering erupted from the other side of the lake, drowning out the rest of my sentence.

Nathan frowned. "What?"

Sienna's eyes gleamed. "The fireworks are starting. Go ahead and watch—I'll handle the flight stuff with her."

Nathan's attention had already shifted. He nodded distractedly, said something I didn't catch, and followed the crowd toward the dock where the fireworks were being set up.

The moment he was out of earshot, Sienna dropped the act entirely. She crossed her arms and looked at me with open contempt.

"You've already filed for divorce, so what is this? Did you track us down just to make a scene? That's honestly pathetic."

She'd misunderstood, but with the divorce papers arriving any day now, I didn't see the point in correcting her.

Sienna wasn't finished. Something sharp and ugly moved through her expression.

"Since you insist on getting in the way, let's just see who he picks."

Before I could process what she meant, she shoved me—hard.

I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the edge of the stone fire pit behind me.

I fell directly onto the metal grate, and the pain that tore through my hand was immediate and blinding.

I cried out before I could stop myself.

The sound carried across the gathering, and several people nearby turned to look.

Nathan heard it too. He turned, saw me collapsed against the fire pit clutching my hand, and his expression shifted—just for a second, he started moving toward me.

Then he saw Sienna standing beside me, cradling her own wrist with a pained expression on her face.

"What happened to your arm?"

He changed direction immediately, crossing to her side and reaching for her hand.

Sienna bit her lip, the picture of innocent confusion.

"I'm not sure. She just stumbled backward on her own. I tried to catch her, but I scraped my wrist on the grate."

Nathan's expression softened instantly. He lifted her wrist gently and examined the faint red mark across her skin.

Then he looked at me, and every trace of warmth disappeared. His voice turned cold.

"There's a limit to jealousy. I actually thought you'd matured past this, and then you pull something like this to make Sienna look bad."

"Apologize to her. Right now. Or I'm putting you on the next flight out tonight."

I pressed my burned hand against my chest, the pain making it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

Nathan took my silence as defiance.

"Don't think playing the victim is going to get you any sympathy. This whole situation is your fault."

He was opening his mouth to say something else when a young man in his mid-twenties came towards me, holding a large envelope.

"Mrs. Sinclair? Your divorce certificate arrived."