Chapter 2

Ethan didn’t come home that night.

I sat on our living-room sofa until dawn, running my hand over the soft Italian leather.

We had flown to Milan to choose it together.

“We’re going to have this thing for the rest of our lives,” he’d said. “It has to be the one you love.”

Then he had leaned close, his smile turning wicked.

“And it had better be sturdy. A flimsy sofa wouldn’t survive the two of us.”

We had spent an entire day trying every sofa in the showroom before making a decision.

The memory broke something open in me. I gripped the cushions and cried until exhaustion pulled me under.

When I woke, afternoon light filled the room.

I was weak, swollen-eyed and halfway through packing when the front door opened.

Ethan came in carrying a white jewelry box and a takeout bag.

“Enough of this,” he said. “I brought back the wedding necklace you wanted. And dinner, because I knew you wouldn’t remember to eat.”

He held out the bag.

The smell of shellfish hit me, and nausea surged up my throat.

The receipt was still stapled to the side. Eighteen dishes. More than three thousand dollars.

What he had brought me was a single leaking carton of leftovers.

I pushed the bag away.

Ethan dropped it onto the floor. Broth spread across the hardwood.

“What more do you want from me, Anna? Natalie and I waited three hours for a table at that restaurant.”

“For me?” I pressed a hand over my mouth. “I’m allergic to shellfish. Natalie is the one who loves it.”

He looked away.

“You married her,” I said. “Why are you even here?”

He crossed the room and locked his arms around me.

“Because I’m still giving you the wedding you’ve always wanted. The marriage certificate is paperwork. Why are you throwing away five years over paperwork?”

His grip hurt. Tears slipped down my face before I could stop them.

Once, those same arms had made me feel safe.

I had met Ethan when he pulled me away from a supervisor who had cornered me after an office party. My family warned me that the youngest Shaw son had no position, no influence and too many enemies.

I chose him anyway.

Back then, his grandfather had never considered putting him in charge of the family company. I gave up a design fellowship in Paris and stayed in San Francisco. Night after night, I built proposals, repaired budgets and turned Ethan’s half-formed ideas into profitable ventures.

Project by project, his grandfather began to notice him.

Eventually, Ethan became the heir apparent.

His oldest brother never forgave either of us.

At a company retreat in Yosemite, that brother lured me onto an isolated trail and shoved me down an embankment. I lost my first pregnancy there.

When Ethan found me, his hands shook so badly he could barely hold me.

“I can’t survive without you,” he whispered. “I will never betray you. I swear.”

He kissed my forehead as though I were the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re the only woman I will ever marry.”

Later, I learned why he had not been beside me on the trail. Natalie had twisted her ankle, and Ethan had carried her nearly three miles back to the lodge.

When I confronted him, he broke down in our apartment and dropped to his knees. He cried until I forgave him.

I had always forgiven him.

I was about to push him away when a special ringtone cut through the room.

Natalie’s.

Ethan released me at once. Embarrassment flickered across his face, quickly replaced by concern.

“Her morning sickness has been getting worse. I need to make sure she’s all right.”

He reached the door, then looked back.

“Think carefully, Anna. Decide whether you actually want this wedding.”

He answered the call as he walked away, lowering his voice into the tender tone he used only with her.

I opened the jewelry box.

Inside lay the diamond-and-pearl necklace his grandmother had worn on her wedding day. Ethan had promised the piece would welcome me into the Shaw family.

I placed it in the trash.

Then I booked a one-way flight to Paris.