Chapter 2

The hospital receptionist checked my profile on her screen, her brow slowly furrowing.

“Miss Cooper, the dependent health coverage tied to Cole Anderson’s premium account was canceled about a month ago," she said softly, turning the monitor toward me.

I froze.

"The primary holder can only link one person, and Mr. Anderson transferred that spot to Zoey Collins last month," she explained gently.

She asked if I wanted to list a new emergency contact. I looked at the blank line, unable to write down a single name.

When I was done with my treatment, Cole called my phone.

"Where are you? Mom’s hosting a family dinner tonight, and everyone’s already here."

I stared at the purple bruise on the back of my hand from the IV line, completely out of energy to care. "I’m not coming."

Half an hour later, his black SUV pulled up right in front of the hospital entrance.

"Why didn't you tell me you were at the emergency room?" he demanded, reaching out to touch my forehead.

For a fraction of a second, I didn't pull away.

There was a time when I had a severe stomach virus in the middle of the night, and he carried me on his back for three blocks through the pouring rain. The emergency room was packed that night, so he crouched on the floor in front of my chair in the waiting room, rubbing my stomach to ease the cramps until sunrise, never closing his eyes once.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

The caller ID flashed Zoey-Bear across the screen.

Cole answered instantly, listening with patient devotion before telling her he’d be right there. His hand dropped from my forehead just as quickly.

"Zoey’s already at my parents' place," he said, his tone shifting back to business, "It’ll look terrible if you skip out when all the adults are there. Just get in the car. If you're still feeling awful after we eat, I'll drive you home early."

I got into the passenger seat anyway.

Barnaby, my golden retriever, was staying in the backyard of Cole’s parents' house, and I needed to pick him up in a few days.

The second Barnaby heard my footsteps on the porch, he scrambled up from his dog bed. He was ten years old, his back legs stiff with arthritis, but he still ambled over to me, wagging his tail with everything he had.

As soon as I crouched down to pet him, Zoey covered her face with both hands, gasping dramatically.

"Cole, get him away from me! You know how bad my dog allergies are! My chest is tightening up!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Cole shoved Barnaby’s dog bed straight out the door.

Barnaby lost his footing and stumbled sideways, his nails scraping against the hardwood floor with a sharp, horrible screech.

I bolted over to catch him. "It’s about to pour outside! He can't handle the cold!"

"It's fine, it's not going to rain," Cole said, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back inside before slamming the door shut, "What if Zoey has an allergic reaction?"

Outside, Barnaby scratched gently against the door.

Ten years ago, when my depression hit rock bottom, I used to sit out on the balcony all night, refusing to eat or speak to anyone. Barnaby was just a little puppy then, but he’d drag my slipper over, curl up at my feet, and refuse to leave my side no matter how many times I tried to nudge him away.

When Cole first met him, he spent half an hour on the floor petting him, promising me that wherever life took us, Barnaby would always come along.

Now, the same dog he used to cradle in his arms was locked out in the cold, his faint whines barely audible through the glass.

Cole’s mother called us to the dining room for dinner.

Earlier that day, I had spent hours preparing a pot of homemade soup for his parents. I brought the heavy pot over to the table.

Zoey rushed over, insisting on helping. However, the second her fingers touched the side of the pot, her wrist suddenly jerked outward.

The scalding soup crashed onto the floor.

Boiling liquid splashed straight across the back of my hand, sending a wave of blistering agony through my skin.

Zoey stood there, tears instantly brimming in her eyes. "Kelsey, I’m so sorry! I'm such a klutz. Go ahead and yell at me, I deserve it."

Cole snatched a wad of paper towels and dropped to his knees, frantically wiping the hem of Zoey's dress.

Her dress was completely clean. Not a single drop had touched her.

Only after he inspected every inch of her outfit did he finally look up at me, noticing the angry red blisters already rising on my skin.

"Can't you even serve a bowl of soup without making a mess?" he snapped, "Go run it under cold water. I'll just order takeout."

I stood in the bathroom, running freezing tap water over my hand for ten straight minutes.

When I walked back out, the food delivery had already arrived. The table was set with six place settings, but there were only five chairs.

My seat was gone.

Zoey was sitting right at Cole's right hand, wearing the designer scarf Cole’s mother had gifted her. The whole family was leaning in, hanging on her every word as she babbled about invitation card colors. Not a single person looked at me.

Cole glanced up, his expression cold. "Barnaby won't stop whining outside. It's giving everyone a headache. Go sit out on the porch with him and cool off. You're completely out of control tonight."

I stared back at him, cold water dripping off my fingertips onto the floorboards.

"Is this the spot you reserved for me?"

He acted as if he didn't even hear the heartbreak in my voice. "I'll order you some burn cream later."

I stepped out onto the porch, and Barnaby immediately pressed his cold nose against my side, trembling.

Behind the glass, I could hear the sound of glasses clinking in a toast.

I rubbed Barnaby’s ears softly. "It’s time for us to leave, buddy."

A burst of laughter from Cole’s mother drifted through the cracked door. Looking through the gap, I watched her pull an heirloom bracelet out of a velvet box.

"This was supposed to be passed down to my future daughter-in-law, but Kelsey’s wrists are way too skinny for it. It fits Zoey perfectly. What do you think, Cole?"

When Cole turned his head, his eyes brushed past me standing out in the dark.

He didn't pause for even a second.

He smiled and nodded at his mother. "You're right, Mom. It looks great on Zoey."

Rain began to pour down in sheets, soaking me and Barnaby to the bone.

A few minutes later, Cole came rushing outside, looking horrified as he wrapped his coat around my shivering shoulders.

"What are you doing out here in the pouring rain, you idiot?" he scolded gently, "Zoey worked so hard organizing our engagement party, so Mom just gave her the bracelet as a thank-you gift. I'll take you to pick out an even better one later, okay?"

I wrapped the ice-cold coat tighter around myself, feeling the very last spark of love I had for him die inside me.

I pulled out my phone.

Opening a familiar contact, I slowly typed out a single message: [I don't think I'm going to marry Cole anymore.]