Chapter 1

Three days after my father died, my husband, Ethan Lockwood, finally tore himself away from his round-the-world trip with his first love and came home.

I'd handled my father's cremation and funeral arrangements alone. When Ethan came back, I ignored him.

He followed me as I greeted the friends and family who'd come to pay their respects.

Several times, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but I pretended not to notice.

After the service, he finally took my hand.

"We need to talk."

I looked at him. He was frowning.

"I booked a flight back three days ago. But Luna had an episode. I couldn't just abandon a cancer patient."

I thought about all the photos Luna had been sending me of their vacation together over the past three months. I was furious.

"Then answer me this. Why did you pull my father's neurosurgeon, Dr. Patel, off his case to treat Luna's mother?"

His face froze. "How did you—"

Of course I knew. Luna had told me herself the day my father died.

He pressed his lips together. "I promise you, I'll arrange for your father to be buried at Woodlawn. I'll get him the best plot. Is that all right?"

I pulled my hand back.

"No, thank you," I said coldly.

Our future together had ended the moment he'd taken away the specialist who could have saved my father.

…

He stiffened and loosened his tie.

"I didn't think it would end like this."

"When I made the call, Luna's mother was in worse shape than your father. That's the only reason—"

"And now?" I cut him off, my voice shaking.

"Then tell me. Who died? Her mother or my father?"

He said nothing, but he was starting to look impatient.

"I said I'd make it up to you. Luna's a cancer patient. She begged me. How was I supposed to turn her down?"

He leaned closer and looked me in the eye.

"Chloe. Can't you cut me a little slack?"

Looking at him, I couldn't see the man who'd loved me seven years ago anymore.

He couldn't bear to say no to Luna, but he could sacrifice my father's life and leave me to handle the funeral alone.

I took a step back.

"Fine. I get it. You can leave now."

His frown deepened. "And you?"

After a few seconds, I answered.

"I'm staying here with my father tonight. You're not family. There's no reason for you to be here."

Without a word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the car as I struggled against him.

"What are you doing—"

The locks clicked. "You've been running on fumes for three days. You'll collapse. You're going home to sleep."

By the time the car started moving, I'd stopped fighting. After three days, I was exhausted.

On the drive home, his phone kept lighting up on the center console. It was Luna.

"You're not going to pick up? Luna seems frantic."

He gripped the steering wheel tightly. Then he answered the call right in front of me.

"It's okay. Don't blame yourself. Her father's death wasn't your fault. You don't owe anyone an apology."

His voice was gentle as he patiently comforted his first love. It was as though I wasn't sitting beside him, his wife, who'd just lost her father because of him.

I swallowed hard and fought back tears.

He hadn't offered me a single word of comfort since leaving the chapel.

They talked the whole way home. I turned toward the window, remembering the honeymoon he'd finally rescheduled for us three months earlier.

The night before we were supposed to leave, I'd been too happy to sleep.

Then at JFK, the agent at the check-in counter told me there was no reservation in my name.

"That can't be right. Could you check again?"

She did. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The ticket was canceled a week ago."

I was still standing there, dazed, when Ethan appeared. Luna followed him, looking pale and frail.

He put a hand on my shoulder. He spoke gently, but his words hurt.

"Luna's always wanted to go. We made a promise back in high school. I can't break it. Wait for me at home, Chloe."

I watched them walk through security and disappear.

The terminal was bright and crowded, but I'd never felt so alone.

When I snapped out of the memory, we were already home.

I looked up at the brownstone I'd lived in for seven years. Nothing in me stirred.

In three days, I'd leave him and this marriage behind.