Chapter 1

I waited at the airport for three hours. By the time the boarding gate closed, all I got was a message that Penelope had borrowed my partner, Julian Spencer, once again.

The corners of my lips curved into a bitter smile.

How pathetic.

I rescheduled my flight to the next day. I was tired of having my partner taken away from me all the time.

Then, I dug through my contacts and called a number I hadn't contacted in a long time. The other person picked up immediately.

"I heard you're back in the country. Do you want to get married?" I asked.

The man on the other end fell silent. Moments later, a deep, magnetic voice came through the phone.

"I'm in Westbridge. When do you want to hold the wedding? You're not allowed to change your mind."

A faint smile tugged at my lips. "How about the day after tomorrow?"

"Sounds good to me."

…

When I returned to the home I shared with Julian, the first thing I saw when I stepped through the door wasn't a wedding photo of Julian and me.

It was a wedding photo of Julian and his female best friend, Penelope Holt.

The wedding dress I had picked out, and the renowned photographer I'd scheduled an appointment with, had all been taken away from me because of one casual remark from Penelope.

"Didn't we say that we were going to take a wedding photo together once we grew up, Julian?"

Just like that, my wedding photos had become hers.

In the framed photograph, Penelope had her arms around Julian's neck with her cheek pressed against his. Yet, despite how close they seemed, Julian had always insisted that their relationship was strictly platonic.

If that were true, why would he display a photo of him and someone he'd claimed was like a sister to him in the most prominent spot in his own marital home?

As my heart began to ache, I took the photograph down and placed it face down on the kitchen island.

When Julian and I bought this house, he had wrapped his arms around me and said, "This is going to be our home, Jen. It'll be just for the two of us."

The sunset was beautiful that day, and it felt as though Julian only had eyes for me.

I'd believed him wholeheartedly back then. But now, our marital home was filled with traces of Penelope.

Her slippers were by the entrance. Her favorite mug was in the cabinet, and she had her own guest room. On top of everything, even her toothbrush holder sat right between mine and Julian's.

The more I looked around, the tighter my chest felt.

Then, when I opened the door to the master bedroom to put away my luggage, I froze.

Penelope and Julian were shamelessly lying on the bed together. She was nestled against his chest, while his hand rested protectively behind her head.

My suitcases hit the floor with a resounding thud.

I grabbed the vase from the entryway and dumped the water all over their faces.

"Is this what you meant by platonic?" I screamed. "Do platonic friends sleep in the same bed together?"

Julian jolted awake. The moment he saw me, he froze.

"Why are you home?" he asked.

"If I hadn't come back, would I have ever found out about this?" I spat coldly.

I hurled the vase onto the floor, and it shattered with a loud crash.

Penelope clutched the blanket, looking deeply aggrieved. "Julian and I weren't even doing anything, Jennifer. We were just taking a nap. We used to sleep like this when we were kids too."

Julian climbed out of bed and instinctively helped me with my bags.

"You know what Penelope and I are like. Besides, our clothes are still on," he said, gently brushing the loose strands of hair away from my forehead.

Doing his best to hide the irritation in his voice, he continued, "Penelope and I have been inseparable since we were kids. She's like a little sister to me. Stop assuming the worst of everyone."

His response was always the same. It felt as though claiming that the relationship was platonic was enough to justify everything they'd done.

My chest ached.

In a strained voice, I asked, "If there's truly nothing between the two of you, why didn't she sleep in her personal guest room? Why did you have to sleep in the same bed?"

Julian's hand tightened around my arm, and he awkwardly avoided my gaze.

Penelope walked over to me with a faint smile. "I can tell that you care about Julian a lot, Jennifer. No wonder you were in such a hurry to get your marriage license."

Then, she rested a hand on Julian's shoulder. "Believe what you want. Our relationship is platonic, and this is just how we've always been."

Nodding in agreement, Julian added casually, "You'll come back to me once your anger subsides anyway."

His offhand remark stung.

They were right.

Every time this happened, I'd convince myself to forgive him and return to his side. Because I gave in so often, they'd become brazen enough to sleep in the same bed.

I shut my eyes as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

This time, I was leaving for good.