Chapter 2

By the time I got home, the living room was packed with gifts. Hermès bags, designer dresses, and a massive bouquet of imported roses filled the room.

On the coffee table sat a card that read, "Honey, I'm sorry."

I barely glanced at it before walking past and heading upstairs to pack. Seth followed me up, still wearing that ripped tank top.

Standing in our lavishly decorated home dressed like that, he looked ridiculous.

"Nat, stop," he said, slapping a black credit card against the doorframe. "Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you right now. Can we not do this?"

I pushed his hand aside and pulled my clothes out of the closet one by one, stuffing them into my suitcase.

"Listen to me!" He grabbed the suitcase, panic evident in his voice. "The woman at the docks is someone who helped me before. She's struggling now, and I was only trying to help.

"You're my wife. You're the person I love most."

I met his gaze. He looked completely sincere, like he was the man who loved me more than anyone in the world.

"Then go tell that to her."

I pulled my suitcase back and continued packing.

Just then, his phone rang. He answered it, and his voice immediately softened.

"Helen, what happened?"

I heard a woman crying on the other end, her words broken and difficult to make out. Apparently, she'd been hit by a handcart while unloading cargo and was now in the medical office at the docks.

Seth's expression changed.

"Don't move. I'm coming right now."

He hung up and glanced at me, saying, "Helen's been injured at the docks. I'm going to check on her. We'll talk when I get back."

I let out a chuckle and kept packing, but something about my laugh seemed to strike a nerve.

"Natasha, she's just a young woman trying to make a living at the docks," he said. "It's not easy for her. Do you really have to pick a fight with me right now?"

"I'm not." I zipped up my suitcase. "Go take care of her."

He stood there, staring at me.

"Seth, are you sure you're going to drive a car worth over a million dollars while still wearing torn clothes?" I asked. "What do you think she's going to assume?"

His expression stiffened, as though he'd finally realized he'd given himself away.

Still, he didn't stay to explain. He grabbed his car keys and hurried out.

Something fell from his pocket with a sharp clatter. It was the little good-luck charm I'd given him.

When we were dating, I'd turned it into a bracelet and tied it around his wrist myself. I'd told him it would keep him safe and asked him never to take it off.

Now that the bracelet had snapped, the charm was broken.

Seth had left in such a hurry that he knocked over a jewelry box by the door. Its contents scattered across the floor, but he didn't even look back. He simply stepped over them and left.

I crouched down and picked everything up one piece at a time.

There were photos of us together, the first little gold pendant he'd ever bought me, and the matching wedding bands we'd exchanged when we got married.

I remembered how Seth had ridden his old secondhand scooter all over town, searching for a pharmacy that was still open when I came down with a terrible fever.

In the end, he knocked on the door of a small clinic and begged the doctor to see me.

He'd sat beside my bed all night, holding my hand and promising me that he'd buy me all my favorite food once I was better.

Back then, he had nothing. He was so broke that he couldn't even bring himself to replace the worn-out battery on his scooter.

The fever might've blurred my vision, but I could still see the earnest look in his eyes.

Now, he had private doctors and access to the best medical care money could buy. He could make one phone call and have an ambulance from an elite private hospital sent to a dockworker he'd barely known.

Yet, he'd forgotten the woman who had spent ten years by his side.

I picked up my phone and sent my lawyer a message.

"I want a divorce."

A noise suddenly came from the doorway. Seth had come back, his hair damp with sweat.

"Where's my charm? Did you see it?" he asked hastily. "It was in my pocket just a minute ago."

I took in how disheveled and breathless he looked, then closed my suitcase.

"No," I replied calmly. "I didn't see it."

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and crouched down to search around the stairs. His phone kept ringing in his pocket, but he silenced it without answering.

"Think carefully," he urged. "I still had it before I came through the door."

"Isn't Helen waiting for you at the hospital?" I hedged, clasping my hands behind my back. "It's just a broken bracelet. Can't you look for it when you get back?"

He froze, as though I'd caught him off guard.

His phone rang again.

"Hey, Helen," he said, gritting his teeth. "I'm almost there. Have the nurse check you over first."

After hanging up, Seth looked at me, torn.

I thought he'd stay and search a little longer, but he turned and walked out.

"I'll take Helen in for some scans and come straight back," he said, glancing back at me from the door. "If you see the bracelet, put it somewhere safe for me.

"It's something you gave me. I can't lose it."

The door closed behind him, and I stood alone in the empty living room. I opened my hand.

Years ago, Seth had taken me to a little chapel to give thanks for something we'd prayed for. The bracelet had gotten soaked in the rain that day, and when we got home, he'd carefully dried it with a hair dryer, strand by strand.

He'd promised he'd wear it forever, and he really had. He'd never taken it off except when he showered.

Now, for another woman, he was willing to leave it behind. Even if he'd lost it, it could wait.

I dropped the broken bracelet into the trash.

It didn't matter anymore. After all, my flight to Aldenburg was leaving in nine hours.