Chapter 3

I was close to hysterical. Claire only said, "Don't shout in here, Julian needs to rest. We'll talk on the roof."

Even now, he came first.

On the roof, she held out a bank card. "There's five million dollars on it. Consider it compensation."

Seven years, and she thought what I wanted was a number on a card.

I demanded an answer. She said nothing.

Ryan lost patience first. "Ethan, people's feelings change. Can you stop making this harder than it has to be? Claire has only ever loved Julian. Be reasonable."

I stared at him. Ryan had been my best friend since we were six. In high school his parents wanted him to drop out and take a job at a plant, and I handed over my allowance and everything I'd saved so he could finish. He cried and told me he'd spend the rest of his life paying me back.

Apparently this was the payment.

My mother grabbed my arm, and there was nothing in her voice but impatience. "Enough. Julian is your cousin. He lost both his parents when he was little. Why can't you just let him have this?

"Take the five million and let it end here."

For a second the woman who raised me was a total stranger.

Poor Julian. Fine. What about me?

He'd been living in our house since I was five. She doted on him more than she ever doted on me, because he was an orphan, because his health was bad, because I was the one who was supposed to understand. I'd been stepping aside for him for more than twenty years. Now I was supposed to hand over my wife too?

The pain in my chest pulled tighter.

I looked at Claire. "If Julian's the only person you've ever loved, why fake a marriage with me at all?"

She looked at the ground. "When I started the company I made enemies. Julian isn't strong. I couldn't put him at risk."

That part was true. Five years ago there really had been people following her. She moved me into a place out past the city limits and swore up and down it was to keep me safe, and I was touched. So when the calls started coming in the middle of the night, when the car windows got smashed, when someone threw red paint across the front door, I gritted my teeth and took it for her.

I hadn't been protected. I'd been set out in the open as bait.

For the first time, something like pain crossed her face. "I know what I did to you. Whatever number you want, I'll pay it."

I turned away. "I don't want anything. From here on, you and I have nothing to do with each other."

She said something else behind me. I didn't listen.