Chapter 3

When I wake up, I find myself in bed.

Adrian never came home.

There's a fever patch on my forehead, a glass of water on the nightstand, and a note underneath.

Take care of yourself. You already had one dose of fever meds. You'll probably need another when you wake up.

Annie's handwriting.

She's been showing up more and more lately.

Sometimes I'm still conscious, but I'm not the one controlling my body. She is.

I open the drawer for the medicine. That's when I see them.

Two plane tickets to Santorini.

Adrian booked them for our third anniversary. His idea. His chosen dates. I just paid for them.

My phone buzzes. A notification from the company Slack channel.

Q3 Top Salesperson: Chloe Parker 🎉 Prize: 6 nights in Santorini for two.

Before I can even scroll, Adrian's text pops up.

Bring the Santorini tickets to my office. I'm giving them to Chloe. Dean's freaking out, he wants to go with her.

Moments later, I stand outside his office with the tickets crumpled in my fist.

Through the glass, I can see him. He's staring at his phone, grinning at something on the screen.

I walk in and set the tickets down.

He doesn't even look up.

"Leave them there. I'll give them to Chloe later."

I don't move.

"Adrian." My lips barely work.

"We had a deal — third anniversary, Santorini. You told me to book them, you picked the dates."

His hand pauses. He finally looks up. The smile drops off his face.

"Nora, this is a special situation. Chloe crushed her numbers. Company's rewarding her. If I don't go with her, Dean will lose it."

"And after? Will you take me after?"

"There'll be other chances." He slides the tickets into his desk drawer. Smooth, practiced. "When I get back, we'll go."

"Adrian." My voice is shaking.

"Can you come with me to the doctor this afternoon? Just one hour. One hour. That's all I'm asking."

He yanks his tie loose, annoyed. That's when I see it.

His top two buttons are undone. On his collarbone, fresh, still a little purple — a hickey.

The door bursts open behind me.

"Adrian! The client's been waiting in the conference room forever."

Chloe. In a white shirt-dress cut low at the collar. Her heels clicking. Files in her arms.

And on the side of her neck, the exact same hickey.

She sees me. Her expression shifts almost instantly into a sweet, apologetic pout.

"Oh, Nora. Didn't know you were here. Sorry, Adrian, the client's about to walk. You'll lose the account."

Adrian grabs his jacket. "Coming."

"Adrian." I catch his sleeve. "One hour. Please."

He turns. His forehead creases in irritation.

"Nora, stop. Work comes first. If you feel that bad, just grab an Uber. Get some cold meds or whatever. It's not a big deal. Or wait here. I'll take you after the meeting."

He pulls his arm free and walks out with her. Her heels and his shoes tap down the hall together.

Behind them, I hear Chloe's voice drop low:

"Is she faking sick again to keep you close?"

"Shh. Don't."

"I feel so bad for you, Adrian. Just divorce her already. Then we can..."

Their voices fade.