Chapter 2

Nathan said nothing for a few seconds. In the end, he didn't ask me to come closer again.

He threw back the covers, got out of bed, and pulled on a robe. Then he walked to the window and lit a cigarette.

As the smoke drifted out, he spoke.

“One more thing. Make sure you get all your stuff out before you leave.”

I stopped with one shoe halfway on.

He didn't turn around. “Olivia's coming over tonight.”

Olivia Hayes. The woman Nathan had wanted for years. The woman everyone in his family already considered his future wife.

I looked down at the torn stockings by my feet.

“All right.”

Perhaps I'd agreed too quickly. He finally turned to look at me.

“She doesn't like finding another woman's things where she's staying.”

He said it as naturally as if he were asking me to pick something up at the store.

I understood. This would be Olivia's place now. Every trace of me was supposed to disappear.

I bent down to collect the stockings.

“And don't forget that cheap crap in the bathroom.”

With my back to him, I answered quietly. “Okay.”

He'd bought those toys. He'd been the one who couldn't wait to talk me into trying them.

Back then, they had amused him. Now that Olivia was coming, they were cheap crap. As though the four years I'd spent doing those things with him had become something shameful, too.

I lowered my eyes and crushed the stockings into my palm.

When I looked up again, I couldn't help taking in the bedroom. My chest felt tight.

I'd lived here for four years. I'd chosen the curtains. Bought the warm yellow lamp beside the bed. When Nathan complained that the mattress was too firm, I'd gone with him to choose a new one.

Now all it took was one instruction to wipe those years away.

Get all your stuff out.

I opened the closet. Almost half of it was mine: clothes, bags, all the jewelry he'd bought for me without much thought.

I stood there for a moment. Then I took only the things that had been mine to begin with.

Nathan leaned against the doorway.

“Why aren't you taking those?”

I turned. “What?”

He tipped his chin toward the shelves. “The bags. The jewelry. Don't you like them anymore?”

I looked at them for several seconds. Then, for the first time, I told him the truth.

“I never liked them.”

He was visibly taken aback. I'd already looked away.

Most weren't anything I would have chosen. Diamonds. Barbie pink. Bows. Delicate, girlish things meant for someone accustomed to being cherished and protected.

Nothing like me.

I'd never actually told Nathan I liked them. I'd simply accepted whatever he gave me. If he said something looked good, I'd wear it.

Back then, I'd thought that if I was agreeable enough, he might care about me a little more.

Only later had I learned that these were gifts he'd originally given Olivia. She'd sent them back.

I'd pretended not to know and kept wearing them for him. As if not saying it out loud could let me pass off someone else's affection as my own.

It seemed ridiculous now.

I shut the closet door.

“Leave them here.” I paused, then decided there was no point protecting either of us from the truth. “They were never meant for me anyway.”

Nathan didn't answer.

I didn't look to see his expression. I wheeled my suitcase out of the bedroom.

Downstairs, his driver was waiting by the door.

I thought he'd been told to take me home. Then the driver took my suitcase, and Nathan spoke behind me.

“Take her straight to Ethan's.”

I stopped so abruptly that I almost stumbled. Turning, I stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

He stood on the steps, perfectly calm. “Exactly what I said. I gave him my word. Don't keep him waiting.”

I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle.

“I can get there myself.”

Nathan looked at me and gave a short laugh.

“You? I'm afraid you'd run off on the way.”

It felt like being slapped in front of an audience.

He wouldn't even let me leave with that much dignity. Giving me away wasn't enough. He wanted to make sure I was actually delivered to the other man.

I looked at him.

“Nathan Cole.”

He raised an eyebrow. In four years together, I'd never addressed him that way, full name and all.

“What?”

I wanted to ask whether, in all those years, there had ever been a moment when he'd thought of me as a person.

But with the question almost out, I realized there was no point.

I loosened my fingers.

“Nothing.”

Then I ducked into the car.

As the door shut, I saw Nathan still standing there, the lights behind him casting a long shadow. He wasn't looking at me anymore. He'd lowered his head to light another cigarette, as though he'd finally dealt with an inconvenience.

The driver pulled away.

I leaned against the window. Only when the house I'd lived in for four years disappeared from view did I finally start to cry.