Chapter 1

My eyes were vacant as I stared at the woman in front of me. It took me a long while to finally speak, my voice hoarse.

"Move out? Why? This isn't funny at all."

Heather Reid frowned, clearly annoyed by my reaction. Rubbing her temples, she sneered. "Dustin Holman, I get that your body isn't what it used to be, but is your brain failing you now too?"

She paused, lazily exhaling a ring of smoke. The smoke drifted around her, making her seem colder than ever.

"Jake wanted to be with me openly and have a legitimate place in my life, so I gave him exactly that. What part of that is so hard to understand?"

I knew that name all too well. Jake Palmer was our housekeeper Vicky Davis' son. He'd just started his second year of college.

My hands and feet went cold, and my whole body started trembling uncontrollably. I had so much I wanted to say, but I didn't even know where to begin.

In the end, all I could do was scream in despair, "Heather, we've been together for 15 years! How could you do this to me?"

There wasn't even a shred of guilt on Heather's face. Instead, she spoke as if what she'd done was the most natural thing in the world.

"It's just a piece of paper. What's the big deal? You've been fine with things the way they are for years. It's not like a title ever mattered that much to you. Dustin, you're a grown man. Why are you making such a fuss over someone who is a decade younger?"

She tapped the ash off her cigarette before glancing over my pale face.

"The house in Brockfield is fully paid off, and it's in your name. I'm pretty sure I haven't shortchanged you, Dustin," she said patronizingly.

She suddenly leaned in close, her warm breath brushing my ear. "Just do as I say and move everything over there. I'll visit you when I get the chance. Jake's young, so he gets jealous easily.

"Seeing another man's things in our home will only upset him."

Another man? Their home?

I glared at her with everything I had. Only by doing that could I keep the tears from falling.

We bought this house on our seventh anniversary. Back then, she said she wanted to start a business, so without a second thought, I quit my job and drained every penny of my savings to back her.

I lived with her in a cold, damp basement, ate expired pasta, chased down clients for her, and pulled all-nighters redoing proposals.

I stuck with Heather from the days she had nothing at all to the day she struck it big.

We'd fought tooth and nail for this home. She was always saying that once the company grew a little bigger, she'd marry me.

I waited 15 years for that. And now, she was casually telling me this was the home she'd share with another man after they got married.

My blood boiled instantly. I jerked my hand away from hers. "Heather, what do you take me for? Some man you keep on the side?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, my voice shaking. "Let's… break up."

Heather staggered back a couple of steps. When she looked up again, her eyes held nothing but fury. "Dustin, have you lost your mind? What the heck are you getting worked up about?

"You're in your 30s. You're not some young guy anymore. Who else is going to want you besides me? Stop this and be realistic!"

Without sparing me another glance, she turned to yank the door open. Ignoring the fact that I was standing there in nothing but shorts, she coldly called out, "Someone come help Dustin pack his things!"

A crushing wave of humiliation and panic washed over me. By the time Vicky barged in with a few other staff, I had clumsily pulled my pajamas back on.

Vicky ripped our engagement portrait off the wall. It hit the floor with a loud crash, the frame and glass shattering into pieces.

The very next second, a brand-new frame was hung high in its place. In the photo, Jake had his arm around Heather, the two of them locked in a passionate kiss.

The sight tore into me, the pain piercing straight through my chest. My clothes and books were being tossed carelessly onto the floor, and a figurine landed at my feet.

Heather bent down, picked it up, and placed it into my hand. In a somewhat softer tone, she said, "Dustin, isn't this your favorite one? Take it with you. Be good—I'll make it up to you someday."