Chapter 2

Rhys didn't come home until ten that night.

I'd already put the spare key to his mother's house on the dining table.

He took off his coat and glanced at the empty kitchen first.

"Where's dinner?"

I slid the key toward him.

"I'm giving this back."

He frowned. "Over one photo? You had to make Grandma's birthday end like this?"

Voice messages kept popping up on his phone.

Loretta was complaining in the group that I'd left without even saying goodbye and that it was incredibly rude.

Moira wanted to know how to refill her medication, and other relatives said my leaving the group had upset his grandmother.

Rhys held down the voice-message button, his tone patient.

"Loretta, don't be upset; I'll talk to her. I'll have Audra get the medication deliveries going again. Everyone get some rest."

Only then did he look up at me, as if he expected me to know my place and take that pile of problems off his hands.

Three years earlier, Rhys had taken me to his mother's house in Shoreline and said she'd been locking her keys inside lately, so someone needed to be able to stop by anytime.

He'd put the spare key in my palm with a smile. "You don't have to knock when you come here anymore."

I'd thought he was giving me a home; later, I realized he'd only handed me a responsibility.

That key was only really mine when they needed someone to clean out the garage, feed the cat, deliver something, or bring in the packages on Moira's porch.

I pushed the key closer to his hand.

"Let's break up."

Rhys stared at me for a few seconds, then gave a cold laugh.

"Audra, all this just to make me propose right now?"

My throat tightened, but I kept looking at him. "I'm not asking for a ring. I want to end this relationship."

"Six years, and you're just ending it like that?"

He took out his phone and transferred me $5,000.

"Buy that bag you were looking at. Call Loretta tomorrow and apologize. Then we're done with this."

The transfer on the screen made my eyes sting.

It wasn't that he never gave an inch.

He was willing to spend money, take me to dinner, and even offer what he considered an expensive peace offering when I made enough of a fuss.

But every offer came with the condition that I back down.

I sent the money back.

Rhys's face darkened. "Audra Penrose, you'd even use my mom's medication as leverage? All those years you were so nice to them, was it just to get me to marry you?"

For a moment, his words left me unable to move.

In six years, I hadn't missed a single family wedding or funeral; I'd gone with Moira to four annual checkups and contacted schools for Loretta's son.

In his eyes, none of that was love; it was a deal I'd been setting up all along.

He seemed to realize he'd gone too far and instinctively stepped toward me.

I stepped back.

His hand stopped in midair, then dropped after a moment.

"You're too worked up right now. I don't want to fight with you."

He turned toward the guest room. "Sleep on it; we'll talk in the morning."

"I won't be here in the morning."

He didn't stop walking.

"Where are you going to go? Talia's couch? You'll be back after a few days."

After the door closed, I called my parents.

They'd set aside money for a down payment years earlier and said they'd give it to me when I got married and bought a home.

Rhys knew about that money, so for six years he'd assumed that as soon as he agreed to propose, the home, the down payment, and I would all fit neatly into his plans for the future.

After hearing me out, my father said only, "That money is for you, Audra. You don't have to marry someone first to get it."

The next morning, I took my driver's license and mortgage paperwork to the sales office at Alder Bay Condominiums.

With my savings and the down payment my parents had given me, I signed a purchase contract for a $520,000 condo and paid the earnest money deposit.

The real estate agent handed me the buyer information form. "Ms. Penrose, you're the only buyer and the only person to be listed on the deed, correct?"

I held the pen and paused.

"Yes, just me."

After signing my name for the last time, I photographed the cover of the contract and posted it on Instagram.

[Deposit paid. I bought myself a home.]

I'd first looked at that condo at Alder Bay six months earlier.

I'd wanted it to be our home after we got married; I'd checked the layout and the price and prepared the mortgage paperwork, just waiting for Rhys to say yes.

But he'd insisted buying a place was too much trouble and that we'd move into his mother's house instead, so the plan had been shelved.

Ten minutes later, Rhys sent a message.

[Buying a place won't make me give in to your ultimatum and propose. We'll talk when you've calmed down.]

I didn't reply.

He still thought there was a place for him in my new home.