Chapter 3

Victoria arrived with movers and drove me to the house herself. She behaved as if we were still married and I had simply been away on a business trip.

The living room smelled of expensive furniture polish. She poured me coffee and smiled with the careful patience of someone waiting to be thanked.

"You'll be comfortable here. Brandon can stop by to discuss projects. I'll make sure you're paid."

"I told you I didn't want any of this."

"And I told you you're too good to throw your life away making lattes."

I looked at the floor-to-ceiling windows and thought of the little café where I had been happy. She'd taken away even the right to choose a modest life.

Her phone rang. Brandon wanted to know why she had missed a meeting. Her voice softened immediately as she reassured him.

After she left, my parents came to visit.

For a heartbeat I let myself believe they wanted to see me.

Mom sat on the couch, folding and unfolding her hands. "Nathan, Brandon is a good boy. Victoria is going to marry him. Don't make things awkward by hanging around."

"You came here to tell me to leave?"

"We aren't trying to be cruel," she said gently. "But you had your chance with Victoria. It's over."

I forced the words past the ache in my throat. "What if Brandon caused the collapse? What if I went to prison for what he did?"

Dad's face hardened. "Don't you dare accuse him."

Mom's voice was still soft. "You should go back to that small town. We can help you move if you won't go yourself."

That was the voice that had sung me to sleep as a child. Now every syllable cut like a knife.