Chapter 3

If Vanessa had returned three years earlier, perhaps this wouldn’t have hurt so much.

Back then, Adrian and I hadn’t built much of a relationship.

Our parents were old friends. My family valued education; his had worked in wolf medicine for generations.

They introduced us after a dinner.

There was no fated-mate recognition.

No one forced either of us to accept a mark.

We simply thought we suited each other and decided to try building a life.

I taught at the university. He divided his time between surgery and clinics.

During our first year, I could count our proper dates on one hand.

I couldn’t remember when I fell in love with him.

Perhaps it happened during those late nights when he came home quietly and replaced my cold coffee without waking me.

Or perhaps it happened in the rain after my car accident.

The other driver stood at the roadside shouting. Rain struck my face so hard I could barely see.

I called Adrian and started crying before I could finish giving him the address.

He arrived without an umbrella.

My composed, respectable surgeon stood in the rain arguing with a stranger, his tie crooked and his shirt soaked through.

When the man finally stopped shouting, Adrian turned and wiped the water from my cheeks.

“Why are you crying, Clara?”

He pulled me against him.

“You can always count on me.”

I believed him.

Then, three days after I came home from the hospital, the man I could always count on appeared on Vanessa’s Instagram.

I had just finished teaching and was filling my mug in the faculty kitchen when the notification appeared.

Vanessa sat on a sofa with a fresh bandage around her knee.

Her caption read:

*The price of leaving me stranded? Our favorite doctor comes over to change my dressing himself.*

I looked at the photograph.

Then the post disappeared.

A few minutes later, she uploaded a selfie.

*Got scolded. Next time I’ll stay right where you leave me and be a good girl.*

She pouted at the camera, her lips slightly swollen.

At the edge of the picture, a familiar watch lay on the table.

I recognized the watch.

I recognized the scratch in the tabletop, too.

The previous Thanksgiving, I had made it while helping Mrs. Vale clear the dishes.

Vanessa was at Adrian’s parents’ house.

He had taken her there.

Hot water overflowed my mug and splashed my hand.

A colleague called my name.

I turned off the faucet.

When I was young, my parents never told me to accept mistreatment just to keep everyone comfortable.

There was no reason to start now.

I liked Vanessa’s post.

Then I commented:

*Nice watch.*

I silenced my phone and took my lecture notes back to class.

Afterward, I found eight missed calls from Adrian and three from Vanessa.

The post was gone.

Adrian called again.

“Clara, why aren’t you answering?”

He sounded tired.

“It’s Monday. I’m teaching.”

He paused.

We had known each other for years. He knew I didn’t answer personal calls during lectures.

I waited.

Vanessa began crying.

“Clara, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen Mr. and Mrs. Vale in forever. I only came to visit.”

“Adrian happened to be here, so he changed my bandage.”

“Please don’t fight with him over this.”

I set down my mug.

“Who said I was fighting?”

“What are you feeling guilty about?”

“Clara.”

There was a warning in Adrian’s voice.

“My parents are here. Watch your tone. Vanessa posted to thank me. She didn’t do anything wrong, and she doesn’t deserve an interrogation.”

I looked out the window.

Students crossed the lawn carrying books. Sunlight made the glass almost painfully bright.

When I didn’t answer, he grew impatient.

“What time are you done? I’ll pick you up. Mom’s made dinner.”

I took a breath.

“Adrian, if she’s in that house, I won’t be.”

Silence.

Later, I learned Vanessa had put the call on speaker.

His parents, Vanessa, and Adrian had all heard me.

I had left them no room to pretend we were one happy family.

His voice went cold.

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

He hung up.