Chapter 2

I took an Uber home.

The house had been mine before it had ever been ours.

Not legally.

Emotionally.

I'd designed the remodel myself.

Picked the stone for the kitchen.

The oak floors.

The lighting.

The furniture.

I had imagined holidays here.

Kids.

Sunday mornings.

A whole life.

The second I stepped inside, all I could see was Lily.

A pair of fuzzy pink slippers sat beside Ethan's shoes.

Not mine.

I hated pink.

In the living room, two coffee mugs sat on the table.

One matte black.

One pale blush.

His and hers.

I went into the kitchen.

The refrigerator was full of food I couldn't eat.

Shrimp cocktail.

Lobster bisque.

Pistachio gelato.

Cashew milk.

I had a severe shellfish and tree-nut allergy.

Ethan knew that.

Lily loved all of it.

I'd complained once.

His response had been immediate.

"Lily lives alone. Sometimes she eats here after work. Why are you making food into a territorial thing?"

Apparently wanting my own kitchen not to contain foods that could send me into anaphylactic shock was territorial.

Upstairs was worse.

Two dresses hung in the guest section of our closet.

Both Lily's.

Her moisturizer sat on my vanity.

Her dry shampoo was in our bathroom.

A spare phone charger was plugged in on Ethan's side of the bed.

Pink.

I opened the nightstand drawer looking for antacids.

Instead, I found a bottle of prenatal vitamins.

Under it was a folded report from a women's health clinic.

Patient: Lily Monroe.

Preconception screening.

I stood there staring at the page.

For months, Ethan had told me I was imagining things.

That Lily was practically family.

That I was too jealous.

Too cold.

Too suspicious.

Meanwhile, she had been leaving pieces of herself all over my house.

Not accidentally.

Deliberately.

A toothbrush would've been less insulting.

I pulled out my phone and called my divorce attorney.

She answered on the second ring.

"Claire?"

"I want to file."

Silence.

Then, "For divorce?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure."

She exhaled slowly.

"All right. You and Ethan have a complicated asset picture. The company alone is going to take some work."

"I know."

Bennett Blake Technologies had started with the two of us.

Ethan handled sales, fundraising, partnerships, and operations.

I built the technology.

Before we incorporated, I'd already developed several core systems and filed provisional patents in my own name.

Our founder agreement left those patents with me personally and gave the company an exclusive license.

At the time, Ethan had insisted on it.

He said it would make me feel protected.

Funny how things worked out.

My attorney continued.

"I'll start drafting."

"I don't want revenge."

I stared at Lily's medical report.

"I want a clean accounting."

"Anything that's mine, I keep."

"Anything that's his, he can have."

"And if he moved marital money anywhere it shouldn't have gone, I want every dollar traced."

"Understood."

I hung up.

Then I packed.

My clothes.

My jewelry.

My laptop.

Documents.

Everything I had bought for myself.

I left every gift Ethan had ever given me.

The diamond bracelet.

The handbags.

The watch.

The necklace he'd made such a production of giving me on our anniversary.

I dropped all of it into a large trash bag.

My phone buzzed.

Ethan.

Are you done?

I didn't answer.

Another message.

I'm still in the hospital.

Come back and handle the discharge stuff tomorrow.

Then:

And don't punish me because Lily showed up when you didn't.

I blocked him.

Then I opened Instagram.

Lily had posted twelve minutes earlier.

The photo showed Ethan in his hospital bed.

She was sitting beside him.

Their hands were linked.

Not accidentally.

Not subtly.

Her caption read:

Some people are terrible patients. Lucky for him, I know how to handle him.

The comments were already piling up.

You two have always made way too much sense.

Some things never change.

Ethan looks happier already.

And one comment from a college friend:

At this point, just marry each other.

I stared at that one.

Then I laughed.

A real laugh.

I liked Lily's post.

Then I commented from my own account.

He's all yours. No returns.

I added one more sentence.

Seriously. Keep him.

Then I closed the app.