Chapter 2

Ten minutes later, Celeste posted a photo on social media.

In the photo, she was sitting in Graham's car, holding a cup of warm milk.

Graham was behind the wheel, calm as ever, his wedding ring clearly visible.

The caption read:

[Some people don't say "I love you," but they always show up.]

I liked it.

Three minutes later, she deleted it and sent me a message.

Celeste: [Dawn, don't get the wrong idea. I just got back, and I didn't have anyone else I could ask for help.]

Me: [I didn't.]

Me: [You've never been short on people who care about you.]

She kept typing for a long time.

I didn't reply again.

Graham came home after midnight.

He smelled faintly of gardenias and sweet milk.

I placed the divorce papers on the coffee table.

"Sign them."

Graham glanced down at them.

His expression barely changed, as if I were just being unreasonable again.

"Dawn, you've been making a fuss all night."

He put the papers back down.

"If you want me to make you feel better, you don't have to threaten me with divorce."

So even when I tried to leave, he thought I was just asking him to make me feel better.

That night, he slept beside me as usual.

Half the bed lay empty between us.

Someone could lie right beside you and still have their heart somewhere else.

Early the next morning, my mother, Elaine Whitmore, called.

"Dawn, come home for dinner tonight. Your sister's lost so much weight lately. Don't make things any harder on her."

I tightened my grip on the phone.

"Mom, did you know Graham had feelings for her?"

The other end of the line went silent.

A few seconds later, she said, "Who told you that nonsense?"

"You knew."

Her voice softened.

"Dawn, what happened back then can't be explained in a few words."

"Then explain it."

"Whitmore Group was on the verge of collapse. Your father was so worried he couldn't sleep. Graham stepped in and saved this family."

"So you married me off to him?"

"What do you mean, 'married you off'?" she shot back. "Do you have any idea what kind of family the Hales are? Or what a catch Graham is? Anyone would envy you for marrying into that family."

"He loves my sister."

My mother paused.

"It's not unusual for a man to still have feelings for someone from his past."

I laughed.

Someone from his past.

That was Celeste.

And somehow, I, his wife, was the outsider.

That evening, Graham drove me to my parents' house.

There was a jewelry box in the car.

"For your mom," he said.

I opened it. Inside was an emerald bracelet.

"Did you get anything for my sister?"

Graham kept his eyes on the road.

"She just got divorced. Giving her anything too expensive wouldn't be appropriate."

I closed the box.

"You really know where to draw the line."

Graham glanced at me.

"Dawn, you don't have to be so sharp."

"You only think I'm being sharp because you feel guilty."

He said nothing after that.

Celeste was already seated at the table when we arrived.

She wore a pale blue sweater, her eyes slightly red.

The moment Graham walked in, she stood.

"Graham, you're here."

She said it so naturally that it almost made me feel like I was the guest, not his wife.

My father, Richard Whitmore, smiled.

"Graham, why don't you sit next to Celeste? She just got back, and you two know each other well."

Graham paused, then sat beside me instead.

Something dimmed in Celeste's eyes.

She lowered her gaze and served him a bowl of soup.

"Your stomach's sensitive. Have some soup first."

My mother smiled at once. "Celeste's always been so thoughtful."

Then she turned to me.

"Dawn, you've been married for three years. You should learn how to take better care of your husband."

I looked at the bowl of soup.

"I only found out today that he has a sensitive stomach."

The table went quiet.

Celeste said softly, "Dawn, I just remembered he has a sensitive stomach, so I served him some soup. It wasn't a big deal."

I looked at her.

"And back in high school, when that iced Americano upset his stomach, was buying him warm milk 'no big deal' too?"

Celeste went pale.

Graham set down his fork.

"Dawn Whitmore."

I turned to my father.

"Dad, you knew too, didn't you?"

My father frowned.

"Knew what?"

"That my husband had feelings for my sister."

My mother shot to her feet.

"Dawn!"

I ignored her.

"You knew he married me so he could invest in Whitmore Group. You knew he did it so Celeste wouldn't be looked down on by the Carvers."

My father said nothing.

His silence told me everything I needed to know.

Tears filled Celeste's eyes.

"Dawn, don't do this. Mom and Dad didn't have a choice."

I looked at her.

"And you didn't have a choice either?"

She bit her lip.

"I had a terrible time with the Carvers back then. Once Whitmore Group started failing, they looked down on me. Even the household staff started giving me attitude."

Her voice trembled.

"Only after Hale Group invested did the Carvers finally back off."

She sounded like she was the one who'd been wronged.

But every word reminded me of the same thing.

My marriage had been the stepping stone that let her hold her head high with the Carvers.

My mother reached for my hand.

"Dawn, your sister's already been through a divorce. She's suffered enough."

I looked down at her hand.

"I had a miscarriage."

My mother froze.

"You lost your own grandchild less than a month ago."

My father's voice hardened.

"Why bring something that morbid up at the dinner table?"

Graham frowned, as though he were about to say something.

But Celeste burst into tears first.

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't come back, none of you would be fighting like this."

Graham immediately handed her a napkin.

The movement was so practiced it seemed instinctive.

I stared at the napkin and laughed.

So he did know how to take care of someone.