Chapter 2

I got home, pushed the door open, and the smell of lilies hit me.

Daria's favorite flower.

Our bedroom door stood open.

The photo of Cecil and me that had hung on the wall was gone.

In its place was a portrait of Daria.

In the closet, my clothes lay in a pile on the floor while Daria's slip dresses hung neatly from the rod.

Daria's antidepressants and skincare products sat on the vanity.

Footsteps behind me.

I turned, and there was Cecil.

He looked travel-worn, fresh from the airport.

"So you came."

"What is all this?"

I pointed at the mess on the floor, trying to keep my hand steady.

"Daria moved in," he explained flatly as he took off his coat.

"She's had a severe relapse. The doctor says she shouldn't be alone. This room gets plenty of natural light, and it's quiet. It's good for her recovery."

"So you put her in our bedroom?"

It was absurd.

"This is where we started our married life, and you put this room together yourself!"

In the early years, we couldn't afford to rent anything decent.

Cecil sat in this bedroom and sketched out our future, line by line.

He said that when we had money, this would be our home for the rest of our lives.

And now he had handed it to another woman without a second thought.

"It's just one room. We have plenty of others. Don't get hung up on things that don't matter.

"Daria is sick. She needs someone to take care of her."

Then Daria came in.

She wore loose silk pajamas, her hair still damp from the shower.

When she saw me, alarm crossed her face, and she shrank behind Cecil.

"Nora, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take your room.

"Cecil said I'd feel safer sleeping in here.

"He got the medication and the pajamas for me. Please don't blame him."

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and her eyes reddened instantly.

Cecil stepped in front of her at once.

"Nora, Daria is only staying for a while. She'll move out soon. Don't be petty about it."

"Move her to the guest room."

I kept my voice even.

"No. The guest room doesn't face south. It doesn't get enough light, and that won't help her recover."

He flatly refused.

Daria clutched her chest and started gasping for breath.

I watched him panic over her, and my stomach turned.

"Cecil, what about me?

"You threw my things on the floor and brought another woman into my house. Did you think about me once?"

"Enough!" he cut me off impatiently.

"You can't stay here. Once Daria is stable, I'll come get you."

He was actually throwing me out.

I rushed to the wall, tore Daria's portrait down, and smashed it on the floor.

Glass everywhere.

"Nora, have you lost your mind?" Cecil shouted.

I pointed at the door.

"She's the one who should go! This is my house!"

Daria burst into tears.

Cecil shoved me.

I hit the corner of a cabinet, and the pain brought tears to my eyes.

He didn't even look at me. He called his assistant in.

"Pack Nora's things and take her to the apartment."

The assistant practically forced me out the front door.

As the door closed, I heard Cecil say to Daria in his gentlest voice, "Don't be scared. She's gone. Nobody can hurt you now."

I stood in the cold wind, staring at the closed door, and something inside me finally died.