Chapter 2

Without warning, the first thing Miles had said when he showed up at the hospital came back to me.

"Was anyone in the stairwell when it happened?"

I had been too wrecked to think about it at the time.

Now, looking back, it didn't make sense. How would there be fruit peels on a hospital stairwell?

The thought cut in, sharp enough to make me stop. I didn't let myself go any further.

Right then, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

[Did you get the cake? I'm waiting for you.]

I could picture the smug look on her face when she sent it.

I called a car and headed to the café in the message. The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Phoebe Prescott by the window.

I walked over and sat down across from her. Before I said a word, I noticed the ring on her hand.

It was the same as mine.

Phoebe followed my gaze, then lifted her hand and turned it slightly, letting the light catch it. A small smile settled on her lips.

"This one's different from yours. It has my name and Miles's engraved inside."

When we got married, Miles told me our rings would be one of a kind. He spent a full month designing and making them.

On our wedding day, I cried just looking at them.

After that, I showed them off to my friends for days.

I never thought the love story I had been proud of would turn into something another woman used to show off.

I tightened my hands in my lap and forced my voice to stay steady.

"Get to the point. Why am I here?"

Phoebe tore open two sugar packets and dumped them into her coffee. She stirred slowly, then looked up at me, not backing down.

"When are you divorcing Miles? Hector's already three. I'm not letting him keep living like this."

I let out a short laugh. "You think you get to say that? You're the one he's cheating with."

Her face tightened for a second, something sharp flashing through her eyes.

"You don't even have a child. What are you going to fight me with? If you know what's best for you, you'll step aside."

The more worked up Phoebe got, the quieter I felt.

"How do you know we don't have a child?"

She paused, just for a beat, then her expression settled again. A faint smile curled at her lips.

"Even if you did, that doesn't mean you'd get to keep it."

My jaw clenched. I kept my voice low.

"No matter what you say, I'm the one he's legally married to. You'll always be the other woman, and your son will grow up without a father."

She opened her mouth to fire back, but her phone rang.

She turned the screen toward me. The caller ID read, "Hubby."

Then she tapped it on speaker mode.

Miles's voice came through, easy and familiar.

"Hey, honey, are you home yet? Hector says he's hungry."

Phoebe glanced at me, slow and deliberate, then spoke into the phone.

"I'll be back soon."

She hung up, stood, and looked down at me, the satisfaction plain on her face.

"It doesn't matter whose name is on the paperwork. Miles and I are the real family."

Then, she walked out.

I stayed there for a long time.

Before I left, I sent a message to my childhood friend, the one who had been asking me to start a studio with him.

[I'm in. I'll head back once I wrap things up here.]

On my way out, I slipped off the ring I had worn since the wedding and dropped it into a trash can by the door.

I didn't need something that belonged to more than one person.

Not a ring. Not a man.

When I got home, I packed up everything Miles and I had bought together and threw it out. By the time I finished, half the apartment was empty.

For the first time in a long while, I felt like I could breathe.

The next evening, when I got back from work, Miles was standing outside the door. He was wearing a gray shirt I had never seen before. A faint, sweet scent lingered on him.

Phoebe was marking him. I couldn't believe I had missed it before.

Miles set his bag down and reached for me, like he always did.

I stepped aside.

He looked at me, confused. Then something shifted in his expression, like he thought he understood.