Chapter 3

By the time I reached my father's studio with the clearance notice in hand, the movers had already forced the door open.

"Stop right there."

The foreman glanced at the project manager Cyrus had sent. "Mr. Lane said everything has to be cleared out today, Ms. Spencer. Please don't make our job difficult."

I blocked the doorway. "The plans and models inside are private property. If anyone touches them, I'm calling the police."

Quinn stepped out of a car, carrying the glass jar that had held our stars.

"Zara, I already told them not to clear anything out yet."

My eyes went straight to the jar in her arms. "Why do you have that?"

"Cyrus stayed with me last night. He brought it over with him." She ran her fingers over the glass with a gentle smile. "Those notes were meant for me in the first place. He said leaving them with you would only give you the wrong idea."

I held out my hand. "Give me the jar."

Quinn didn't move.

"You've had him for five years, Zara. Can't you at least give me back the memories that were mine?"

"My father made that jar for me by hand. This has nothing to do with the notes inside."

Her arms tightened around it, tears welling in her eyes. "But Cyrus gave it to me."

"Quinn."

Cyrus's voice came from behind me.

He walked over to her and immediately draped his scarf around her shoulders.

"It's windy. Wait in the car."

I stared at him. "You know exactly who made that jar."

"I'll have someone make you an identical one."

"My dad only ever made one for me."

Cyrus was silent for a moment before his voice softened.

"Quinn likes it. Let her keep it for a few days."

A few days.

There it was again.

Just like Quinn's name was only "temporarily" on my project. Our anniversary could always be celebrated later. And every stormy night, my husband was only "temporarily" leaving me to be with her.

As Quinn headed back toward the car, her foot caught on a cable.

The jar slipped from her arms.

I lunged for it without thinking, but Cyrus was faster. He pulled Quinn into his arms and shielded her instead.

The jar hit the concrete.

The crack of shattering glass made my ears ring as paper stars and shards scattered across the ground.

Quinn went pale. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

I crouched down and reached for the piece from the bottom of the jar with the character from my name etched into it.

Before I could touch it, Cyrus's dress shoe came down on the glass.

"Don't. You'll cut yourself."

"Move your foot."

"The crew can clean it up."

"Cyrus, move your foot."

Frowning, he stepped back.

The glass beneath his shoe had already been crushed into smaller fragments.

I reached for what remained, and a shard sliced my fingertip.

Cyrus caught my hand.

"You're really going to hurt yourself over a broken jar?"

"You're right. It's just a broken jar." I pulled my hand away. "So of course you don't remember my dad sitting beside the kiln when he was dying, carving my name into it one stroke at a time."

Cyrus froze.

Quinn sniffled softly. "This is all my fault. If Zara's really that upset, I can give the project back to her too."

"You don't need to give me anything back."

I stood and tore the clearance notice in half.

"I'm taking the project back myself."

Cyrus stepped in front of me.

"You need to attend this afternoon's contract signing as Quinn's project consultant."

"You want to use my plans, keep her name on the project, and have me answer the investors' questions for her?"

"It's one meeting." He lowered his voice. "She just came back from overseas. She needs this opportunity. You already have me. You don't have to compete with her for everything."

A dull ache suddenly spread through my lower abdomen.

I grabbed the doorframe as cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

Cyrus reached toward me, but a few feet away, Quinn suddenly clutched her chest and gasped that she couldn't breathe.

His hand stopped.

Then he walked straight past me, scooped Quinn into his arms, and carried her to the car.

Before closing the door, he turned to the project manager.

"Take my wife to the signing. Don't let her leave before it's over."

I pulled out my phone and saw a reminder from the hospital about my follow-up appointment.

My doctor had warned me just yesterday that there was bleeding around the gestational sac and that I needed strict bed rest.

I called Cyrus.

He answered almost immediately.

"Quinn isn't feeling well. I'm taking her to the hospital."

"I need to go to the hospital too."

"Your stomach's just acting up. You can go after the signing."

"What if it isn't my stomach?"

Silence.

Then Quinn's labored breathing came through the phone. Cyrus murmured a few words to calm her before speaking to me again.

"Zara, this isn't the time to turn this into a competition over who needs me more."

He hung up.

The project manager opened the car door for me.

"Mrs. Lane, Mr. Lane said you're going to that signing today, even if we have to carry you there."

I looked down.

A bright red drop of blood was making its way down the hem of my dress.