Chapter 3

Bruised and aching, I dragged myself back to my apartment and began to pack.

I'd lived there for three years. Somehow, every belonging I owned fit into a single suitcase.

As I finished packing, I found an old pocket watch.

Dad had pressed it into my hand when I left home three years earlier. "If Gavin ever treats you badly, you come straight back," he'd told me.

But I hadn't gone home once.

Gavin claimed our relationship hadn't reached the meet-the-parents stage.

The night Dad went in for heart treatment, I'd sat alone in the hospital while Gavin stayed at Sylvie's bedside because she had a fever.

Later, Dad had asked whether Gavin disliked him.

I'd made excuses. Gavin was just busy with work, I'd said.

Looking back, Dad had seen the truth long before I did.

I'd spent three years clinging to an absurd progress chart, lying to myself.

I placed the watch in my suitcase.

I'd just zipped it closed when Gavin opened the front door.

"Finn's calmed down. Sign that letter and we can put this behind us."

When I ignored him, he noticed the luggage.

"I told you I'd take you tomorrow. Besides, today is our third anniversary. According to the chart, I'm supposed to propose."

He took out a ring box.

It was empty.

A laugh came from the bedroom closet.

Sylvie stepped out, wearing my engagement ring on her own ring finger.

She wiggled her hand. "Gavin didn't know your size, so he asked me to try it on. You don't mind, do you?"

Not only had he brought her into my home, he'd hidden her in my closet with the ring he supposedly meant to give me.

Sylvie slipped it off and handed it back, smiling. "I lost our bet. I was sure she'd go crazy when she saw me wearing it."

Gavin chuckled. "She wouldn't dare. Her dad's still waiting for that $30,000. I'm the only one who can help her."

They'd turned my father's life-saving money into leverage in a game about whether I'd lose my temper.

One was certain I wouldn't fight back. The other had been waiting to watch me snap.

Neither cared about my dignity. Neither cared whether my father lived or died.

"You really think that as long as you're holding the money, I'll forgive anything you do?"

"I'm trying to show you there's no point burning bridges. Sign the letter. Once Sylvie's family's accounts are unfrozen, you'll get the money back."

I stared at the ring. "Was that part of your little bet, too?"

Gavin frowned. "Sylvie was only checking the fit. Stop making everything sound sordid."

He picked up the ring and reached for my hand.

I stepped away. "Something another woman's already worn? That's disgusting."

Sylvie's face went white.

Gavin grabbed my hand. "Apologize to her."

"No."

He pried my fingers apart and forced the ring on.

The band scraped my injured joint. I shook from the pain.

I pulled the ring off and threw it in the trash.

Gavin went rigid with anger. His hand rose as though he meant to strike me.

Sylvie caught his arm. "Leave it. Her father's dying. Of course she's upset."

Gavin stared at me. "Once your father's situation is settled, you and I are going to settle this."

I took my suitcase by the handle.

Mom called again. Dad had been rushed to the ER.

My knees nearly gave way.

Gavin stood silent for a moment, then finally picked up his car keys.

"I'll drive you to the airport."

I didn't argue.

This might be all the time I had left with my father.