Chapter 2

This whole thing felt like a ridiculously bad pantomime as I stared at the scowl that twisted Alaric's face.

"I'm tired."

Having said this, I turned to grab the suitcase I'd set down not long ago, then headed for the door without so much as a backward glance.

I felt a rough tug on my wrist just as Alaric demanded in a raised, impatient voice, "What's with the tantrum? You've been in a foul mood since you got back and have been lashing out at us for no apparent reason.

"When have you become so unreasonable, Elena?"

I pulled my hand back roughly, the rage I'd been actively suppressing earlier cresting tempestuously in my chest.

"You're the one being unreasonable, Alaric! You texted me and told me you missed me, so I put in overtime to shorten my five-day work trip to three days. I hauled ass back here overnight just to see you, but what have you done?

"Have you asked how I was doing since I opened the door? Do you even remember today is our fifth anniversary?"

The accusations tumbled out in a roar, and my eyes turned dry and prickly.

Alaric had a blank, baffled expression. It was clear he didn't remember our anniversary today.

A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. "If you don't remember our anniversary, what was the surprise you prepared for me earlier?"

He faltered, but couldn't find an answer.

I turned my gaze away from him and spun on my heels to leave. Why should I pester him for an explanation when I already knew the answer to my question?

The door fell shut with a heavy thud behind me, cutting me off from all the noise outside. A deafening silence replaced the cacophony just as my heart slowly sank.

Alaric didn't bother coming after me, either.

I stood on the cold staircase landing, a bone-deep chill seeping through my skin and into the air around me.

…

I stayed up like a statue in the hotel room all night. It wasn't until the first light broke that I realized I'd dug my nails into my palms so hard, I'd left deep, bloody crescents in my flesh.

Grabbing my phone, I scrolled through my conversation with Alaric.

Three years ago, I'd taken out all my savings and scraped together enough money to sponsor his studies and living expenses in an art college in Franston.

He'd clung to me and cried his eyes out. "We'll get married as soon as I return from Franston, Elena! I'm not marrying anyone else but you in this lifetime!"

I'd believed him.

I worked three jobs a day so he wouldn't have to worry about money during his time abroad. I took on one project after another, stretching myself so thin that I ended up in the hospital for stomach bleeding.

When I called him, he'd simply told me he was down with a cold.

He sounded as if he was in a rush on the other line, and I thought I heard Tracy's voice in the background as she whined, "Come on, Alaric! The movie's about to start!"

Alaric had hung up after that and promised to call me later that night.

I waited the entire night, my phone screen lighting up and dimming. I never got his call.

And yet, I saw his picture with Tracy on her Instagram. They were tucked close underneath the Effelle Tower, grinning into the camera. Her caption had been: "The best bros are the ones who explore the world with you."

As it turned out, Tracy had gone to Franston, too. Alaric never told me that.

I comforted myself. I shouldn't be so petty and selfish. After all, Alaric and Tracy had grown up together. They were like brother and sister.

But now, I replayed the details I'd intentionally overlooked in my head.

Alaric and I had set up a design studio after his return from Franston. I'd procured our biggest client and a huge project that could help our studio shoot to fame.

On the night we celebrated our studio's success, I'd had too much to drink. I wanted Alaric to pick me up, but my countless phone calls went unanswered. In the end, it was my co-worker who'd dropped me off at home.

The next day, Alaric explained with red-rimmed eyes that a break-up had left Tracy devastated. She'd drunk herself stupid at a bar, and he'd stayed with her the entire night.

"I'm all she's got, Elena. I can't just abandon her."

I felt sorry for Alaric and forgave him. But I'd forgotten to ask why he had to stay with her for an entire night just because she'd broken up, and why his phone had been switched off.

I closed my eyes, feeling them swell with a prickly, sore sensation.

A moment later, I slowly opened my eyes and made a call. "Hey, Leslie. I need a favor."

Leslie Thompson was my roommate back in college and now worked as a private investigator.

"I need you to look into a person named Tracy Sanderson. I also want records of her and Alaric's activities in Franston three years ago.

"The more detailed the records, the better, especially… medical records in local hospitals in Franston. I'd like to know if Tracy had an abortion."

When I hung up, I looked out the window at the blazing sun, my heart as cold as a fjord.

I'd given you countless chances, Alaric.

It was only fair that we settled the scores between us if whatever was happening between him and Tracy was real.