Chapter 1

I hung up. I looked down and dug through my bag for the key.

My boyfriend, Lukas Asher, had given it to me two years ago. Back then, he'd said, "Here, take it. Come over whenever you want. This place is going to be yours someday anyway."

I'd never once used it without letting him know first.

I slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened. The entryway light was on. His sneakers sat beside the shoe rack, next to a pair of women's shoes I'd never seen before.

I didn't go any farther. I just stood there. Rustling came from the living room. Clothes brushing against each other, hushed voices, someone speaking in a panicked whisper.

I took two steps forward. A dress lay discarded beside the couch. Pale purple, with barely enough fabric to cover anything.

There was a single sock on the floor. A woman's. Two wineglasses sat on the coffee table, next to a half-empty bottle of red wine.

Then I saw them. He was getting up from the couch, frantically pulling on his pants. His shirt was buttoned wrong, and his hair was a mess.

The woman was huddled behind him, a faint red mark on her shoulder.

I stopped in the middle of the living room. One thought crossed my mind. Calling him first had been the right decision. Otherwise, what would I have walked in on if I'd just unlocked the door? Would it have been even more disgusting than this?

"Sienna." Lukas' voice was strained. "How did you—"

"I thought you were at a training session?" I cut him off.

He froze for a moment. He'd finally managed to get his pants on, but his shirt was still a mess.

He glanced down at himself, then looked back up. The expression on his face was hard to describe. He looked like a kid caught red-handed, desperately trying to pretend nothing had happened.

"I… I came back early," he said.

"Oh." I nodded. "Came back early from your training session?"

He fell silent. The woman stepped out from behind him, keeping her head down as she frantically picked up her dress and pulled it on.

She looked young, with light brown dyed hair and a faint flush on her cheeks from the wine. Her hands were shaking so badly that it took her several tries to get the zipper up.

I watched her.

She glanced up at me, then quickly looked away.

"And who is she?" I asked.

He opened his mouth. A couple of indistinct sounds came out, but then he fell silent again. He stood there, not knowing what to do with his hands. Finally, he clenched them into fists at his sides.

The silence in the living room was unbearable.

The woman finished putting on her dress and slipped into her white heels. They clicked sharply against the floor.

She glanced at him, then at me, before lowering her head and hurrying into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I stared at the closed door, then turned back to him.

"Well? Say something," I said.

"Sienna, I…" He took a step toward me, then stopped. "I messed up."

"I asked who she is."

"She's just a friend."

"A friend?"

Lukas lowered his head, avoiding my eyes.

I let out a small laugh. I wasn't sure whether I was laughing at him or myself.

Eight years. I'd known him for eight years. We'd been together through high school and college, and into our working lives. I'd thought I knew him well.

But I'd never seen him like this before.

"It won't happen again." He spoke suddenly, lifting his head to look at me with a pleading look in his eyes. "I swear, Sienna. It'll never happen again."

I said nothing.

Suddenly, he turned and started rummaging through the living room. He searched the drawer beneath the coffee table, the TV stand, and under the couch cushions. He was looking everywhere.

I watched him, having no idea what he was doing.

After a while, Lukas pulled out a small red box. He walked over and held it out to me.

"I got you a present," he said quietly. "I was going to give it to you in a couple of days."

I glanced down. It was a jewelry box with a brand logo printed on the lid.

I opened it. Inside was a necklace with a silver chain and a tiny star pendant. It was beautiful.

I held the box in my hand, staring at it for a few seconds. Then I walked over to the trash can and threw the necklace in, box and all.

"Sienna!" he cried.

"I don't want it."

I turned and looked at him.

Lukas stood there, his expression shifting again and again, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

The light fell across his face, and for the first time, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger.

"We've been together for eight years," I said. "And this is how you treat me?"

He lowered his head without a word.

"Eight years," I said it again. "Since our junior year of high school. I followed you to this city. When you worked late, I brought you dinner. When you were sick, I took time off work to look after you.

"When your mother was hospitalized, I stayed by her bedside so you wouldn't have to. I thought we were waiting for the day we'd finally get married.

"Waiting until we'd saved enough money, until the house was finished, until everything settled down. What were you waiting for?"