Chapter 2

I woke up with a bad headache and the first thing that I saw was a bouquet of white lilies, its my favorite, which I told him about on our third date at the botanical gardens. It comes with a card that says: “Sorry about last night. Happy Birthday to me and to us. Love, L."

For a moment, hope flickers in my chest. Maybe he really did just forget. Maybe he really was just being kind to Wren. Maybe everything I saw on the news was just a misunderstanding, and we can still have our moment, I can still tell him about the baby, and we can start over.

I push myself up, my nightgown was twisted around my legs, and reach for the flowers. They smell like rain and vanilla, and I pressed my face.

I’m still holding the flowers when I hear the bathroom door open and Leander steps out, his hair was damp from a shower, wearing the gray sweatpants he sleeps in.

“You got them,” he said, his voice was quiet as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“They’re beautiful,” I replied, even though a tiny voice in the back of my mind is wondering how he remembered my favorite flowers but forgot his own birthday. “I was going to tell you something last night before your phone rang.”

I reached for my clutch on the dresser, my fingers already closing around the test when someone knocks the door of our bedroom, it was Elena, our housekeeper, she pokes her head in, she’s been working for the Ivanov family for twenty years, and she’s the only one who ever treats me like I belong here.

“Mrs. Ivanov? Mr. Ivanov? There’s a visitor at the door asking for both the of you. She says her name is Wren Harris.”

The words hit me like cold water. I dropped the clutch back onto the dresser, and Leander stood up immediately, his shoulders are straightening like he’s preparing for battle, or like he’s been waiting for this moment all along.

“I’ll go talk to her,” he said, moving toward the door.

“No,” I replied while standing up too quickly and making my head spin. “We’ll go together, after all, Wren and I were in the same design class back in college, we’re old acquaintances, aren’t we?”

I slid my arm through his before he can protest, and I felt him become tensed because of my touch. But he didn't pull away as we walk down the stairs together.

Wren is standing in the foyer, looking exactly like she did on TV, she wore a designer dress, perfect hair, diamond earrings that catch the light from the chandelier above. She turns when she hears us, and her face lits up with a smile that falters the moment she sees our linked arms. But she recovers quickly, stepping forward with her hands outstretched.

“Quinn! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” She pulls me into a hug that feels more like a pretension than a genuine greeting.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve changed you look amazing. You know? Married life suits you.”

I pat her back awkwardly before pulling away. “Wren. It’s… good to see you too. What brings you here this early?" We moved into the living room, and I notice her eyes scanning the space, like everything. I know she's not just here to say hello.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said while sitting down on the sofa and patting the cushion next to her like we’re old friends. “I had no idea last night was Leander’s birthday when I called. I feel absolutely terrible about interrupting your celebration I would never have done it if I’d known.”

“It’s alright,” I uttered even though every word feels like a lie. “We all have emergencies sometimes.”

She reaches for my hands across the coffee table, and that’s when I saw it, wrapped around her wrist is the watch I customized for Leander six months ago. I worked with a master craftsman in Switzerland to design it his family crest carved into the back, my birthstone set into the bezel, the band made from the same leather as his first briefcase.

I kept it a secret, planning to give it to him tonight as part of his birthday surprise and now it’s shining on her wrist like it belongs there.

“I love your watch,” I said, my voice coming out flat and cold. “It’s very, unique.”

Wren looks down at her wrist like she’d forgotten it was there. “Oh, this old thing? Leander let me borrow it yesterday, my watch stopped working, and I had a meeting I couldn’t be late for. He’s always been so generous.” Generous. The word feels like a slap in the face. I saved every penny from my freelance design work to pay for that watch, wanting it to be something from me, not from his endless bank account.

“The lilies in your bedroom are lovely,” she said suddenly changing the subject like she can sense my anger starting. “Leander has always had such good taste in flowers.”

“He knows they’re my favorite,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

She laughed, a light, tinkling sound that makes my tooth ache. “Actually, he bought them for me first, I’m allergic to lilies they make me break out in hives so I told him to give them to you instead. I figured you’d appreciate them more than I could.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. I stopd up so quickly that the coffee table shakes.

“I think I need some water,” I said turning toward the kitchen before I do something I’ll regret like slap the smile off her face.

But before I can take more than two steps, I heard a crash behind me. I turned to see what was it then Wren was on the floor, a shattered glass of water spreading across the floor and a blood seeping from a cut on her bare foot.

“Ouch!” she cries, clutching her ankle and looking up at Leander with tears in her eyes. “I’m so clumsy, I tripped over the rug. What am I going to do? I have a presentation for my new fashion line tomorrow the buyers are coming from all over the world, and I can’t walk on a cut foot!” Leander is by her side in seconds, kneeling down to examine her injury with gentle. His hands are careful as he lifts her foot, brushing away pieces of glass with his fingertips. “It looks deeper than I thought,” he said, his voice comes with worries.

“We need to get you to the emergency room right now.”

Before I can say anything, he lifts her into his arms, bridal style, like she’s a princess and he’s her knight in shining armor. He starts toward the door, then pauses and looks back at me.

I stood there in the middle of the living room, staring at the blood on the floor and the shattered glass glittering like tiny diamonds. Elena appears at my side with a towel and a dustpan.

“Shall I clean this up, Mrs. Ivanov?” she asks, her voice gentle with sympathy.

I nod, unable to speak. I walked back to the bedroom and pick up the lilies, carrying them to the bathroom and drop them into the bathtub, the water turns cloudy as the petals float to the surface, and I watch them sink, one by one, to the bottom.