Chapter 3

Candace's POV

Logan got out and stood under a streetlight, checking his phone, looking around.

Please. Please let me be wrong.

My phone buzzed. A text from Ava: You ok? Haven't heard from you.

I couldn't answer because I couldn't look away from Logan standing there under that streetlight, waiting.

Minutes crawled by. My chest felt tight and each breath hurt.

Then the building door opened.

Ivy walked out.

Even from this distance, I recognized her. The way she moved, that particular tilt of her head Logan had mentioned. She was wearing a bathrobe under a long coat, her hair damp like she'd just showered.

Logan's entire body changed when he saw her. He stepped forward and even in the dim light, I could see his face go soft. The way he used to look at me, years ago.

He reached up and adjusted her scarf, and his hands lingered on her neck.

They were talking but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I could see Ivy laugh at something. See Logan give her that smile, not the tired grimace I'd been getting for months.

Then he touched her face.

His hand cupped her cheek so tenderly and something in my chest broke. I remembered that gesture. He used to touch me like that, back when he still saw me as more than a housekeeper who wouldn't stop asking about wedding plans.

Seven years. I gave him seven years.

Ivy tilted her face up toward his.

And he kissed her.

Not a quick peck. A real kiss. Deep and slow and full of everything that was supposed to be mine.

They stood there wrapped up in each other, completely oblivious to the woman sitting in a car down the street with tears streaming down her face.

My hands fumbled for my phone. I had to document this, had to have proof, had to make sure I wasn't going crazy.

Through my blurred vision, I managed to open the camera and zoom in. The image swam on the screen, Logan's hand in Ivy's hair, their bodies pressed together, her arms around his neck.

I heard Logan's voice carry in the quiet night: "...when I'm done with this project, I'll handle everything. You have to trust me."

"I don't want to be the other woman." Ivy's voice was soft, almost apologetic. "But when I'm with you, I can't help myself..."

He pulled her closer. "You're not the other woman. You're the woman I should have been with all along."

All along. Not "I made a mistake." Not "this just happened." All along, he'd been wanting someone else. While I was picking out wedding invitations. While I was defending him to Ava. While I was turning down my friends' invitations because I needed to be home when he got there.

Seven years. I'd given up my career, my independence, my self-respect for a man who was standing in the moonlight kissing his secretary and calling her the woman he should have been with all along.

A sob tore out of my throat. I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to stay quiet, trying not to completely fall apart in my car.

But I couldn't stop the tears or the shaking or my mind from replaying every warning sign I'd ignored.

"People are saying she's going to replace you."

Ava had tried to tell me. She'd looked at me with those pitying eyes and tried to warn me, and I'd defended him. I'd been so sure, so confident.

I was the only fool who didn't see it coming. The only idiot still believing in us while everyone else watched our relationship burn.

My phone screen lit up with another text from Ava. I stared at it through my tears, then at the photo I'd just taken. Logan and Ivy, frozen in that moment of betrayal.

I wiped my face roughly. My hands were still shaking, but something cold was settling in my chest. Anger. Clarity.

I wasn't going to be the crying woman in the car anymore or be the convenient wife he could parade around while he fucked his secretary on the side.

I pulled up Ava's contact and pressed call.

She answered on the first ring. "Candy? What's wrong?"

My voice came out rough. "Ava, can you help me find a private investigator? I need evidence."

Silence on the other end. Then a long, heavy sigh. "I knew it. I fucking knew it. Oh, Candy—"

"I need photos. Documents. Everything." I was surprised at how steady I sounded, "Can you help me or not?"

"Of course I can help you. But are you—are you okay? Where are you?"

I looked at Logan and Ivy one more time. They were still standing there, still wrapped up in each other, still completely unaware that their perfect little secret was being documented.

"I'm not okay," I said quietly. "But I will be. After I destroy him."

"Jesus." Ava's voice cracked. "Okay. Okay, I know a guy. Let me make some calls. Do you want me to come get you? You shouldn't be alone right now—"

"I want to be alone." I started my car, keeping my eyes on the rearview mirror as Logan finally released Ivy and walked her back to the building entrance. "I need to think."

"Candy—"

"I'm fine, Ava. Really." I wasn't, but I would be. "Just send me that detective's number."

"I will. Tonight. And Candy?" She paused. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry." I pulled away from the curb, leaving Logan and his new love in my rearview mirror. "Just help me make him sorry instead."

I hung up and drove home, my face wet with tears I couldn't stop, my hands white-knuckled on the wheel.

Seven years of my life. And he thought he could replace me with some Yale graduate who tilted her head when she was thinking. He thought I'd just accept it.

He thought I was that stupid.

Well. I pulled into our apartment building's garage, killed the engine.

He's about to find out exactly how wrong he is.