Chuck said, "I've got to get back to my friends, Lorrie. This place is too rowdy. I'll have someone take you home."

Lorrie followed his gaze and understood immediately. He wasn't rushing back to his friends. He was rushing to Lylith.

Then, a commotion broke out in the hall.

"Get off me! Chuck already paid for my time!"

Peter Hodgins, drunk and insistent, was forcing liquor down Lylith's throat. He snorted. "You're nothing but a used-up hostess every guy's taken a turn with. Who the hell do you think you are?"

The second Chuck saw that, he dropped Lorrie's hand and lunged forward. His furious swing sent Peter crashing off the couch.

Terrified, Lylith threw herself into his arms. "You paid for me. You're taking me with you tonight, right?"

Lorrie watched the scene unfold, a cold weight sinking in her chest.

She remembered the time some thugs had harassed her at a bar. Chuck's response had been to tell her, "Stop going to those kinds of places," before assigning her a bodyguard.

At the time, she'd been naive enough to believe he didn't know how to say the right thing, that his way of caring was through action, not words.

Only now did she realize he had never cared at all.

A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.

Lylith's eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the floor, out cold.

Chuck's eyes flashed with hurt. "Lylith! I paid a fortune just to have you to myself. You were supposed to wait for me!"

He swept her into his arms and strode off, not even glancing at Lorrie.

The crowd burst into hushed chatter.

"Chuck's engaged, isn't he? Why's he suddenly back to his first love?"

"Back then, Lylith left him to marry some rich tycoon. Chuck was so hung up on her that he found over 40 lookalikes just to get over her. You really think he'd stay away from her now?"

"Word is, Lylith was forced into that marriage. This time, her own parents talked the bar owner into turning her into some kind of prize for men to bid on…"

Lorrie had known for ages that Chuck was crazy about Lylith, but seeing him throw himself at her still stung badly. She spotted his phone on the floor and reached down to grab it.

That was when Peter lurched to his feet. Mistaking her for Lylith, he swung a champagne bottle right at her head.

…

Lorrie woke up to find herself sitting in the lounge. Bandages clung to her head, and a sharp pain pulsed through her skull. She was soaked through, reeking of alcohol.

The bar owner kept apologizing, explaining that the police had taken Peter away. He pleaded with her to put in a good word with Chuck so he wouldn't close the place down.

Lorrie gave a wry smile. "Chuck and I aren't even married. My opinion doesn't mean anything."

She hailed a cab, and on the way home, she typed "Lylith" into Chuck's phone. The screen unlocked.

She opened the couples app, and a towering tree filled the screen. The status read, "Watered for 2,899 days."

Lorris once asked Chuck to do a couples' challenge with her. They'd get matching rings for just three days of check-ins.

He'd tossed her a black card instead, told her to buy whatever she wanted, and said the whole thing was a waste of time.

Lorrie opened Chuck's email. His drafts folder was packed with unsent letters, each pouring out his heart to Lylith.

"Lylith, you always said you wanted a private island. But since you can't stand the cold, it has to be drenched in sunshine year-round."

"You told me you envied birds—how they could soar freely and see the whole world beneath them. So I bought millions of drones behind her back. Now you can see every corner of the earth from above."

"You used to say that tattooing a lover's name meant you'd be bound together forever. I couldn't stand the idea of you going through that pain, so I lied and told you I hated tattoos. If anyone's going to do something that reckless, it'll be me."

The more Lorrie read, the heavier her heart grew. Every sweet gesture Chuck had done for her was actually for Lylith. She had only ever been Lylith's shadow in his eyes.

Lorrie turned off the phone, her chest burning as if a thousand arrows had struck at once.

When she got home, she bore the searing pain of her wounds as she set fire to every last thing that reminded her of them.

Next, she grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the clothes she'd spent sleepless nights designing for Chuck.

At last, Lorrie faced the mirror, a towel clamped between her teeth, and pressed a white-hot spoon to her tattoo. The smell of burning flesh hung thick in the air.

Sweat dripped down her face as agony tore through her, but she bit down hard and didn't make a sound.

After wrapping her wounds, Lorrie called her friend in Pavrielle and said she was ready to accept the job offer.

Her best friend, Laura Winslow, was thrilled. "The world needs to see your talent, Lorrie. You should've made this decision ages ago! Give me two weeks to set everything up, and I'll send someone to bring you over."

…

Lorrie had fallen ill. Her wound was infected, and the fever burned through her. She opened her eyes to find Chuck by her bed, pressing a cool patch to her forehead.

The moment he saw she was awake, guilt twisted his expression.

"I'm sorry. I lost my phone last night. I had no idea you got hurt until the bar owner sent someone to find me and said you'd been hit in the head. Where's your bodyguard? Why wasn't he with you?"

The memory of Chuck bolting out the door with Lylith in his arms flickered through Lorrie's mind. She turned away, a tear escaping down her cheek.

"Are you mad at me?" Chuck paused. "You said you'd give me three months. I only bought out Lylith for one. I swear, you'll never see me with her again after this."

"Do what you want. Just keep her out of my sight!"

By now, it didn't matter who Chuck picked in the end. Lorrie was done either way.

"I promise," Chuck said, his tone gentler now. "You're the best, Lorrie. You never let me down."

Lorrie closed her eyes, done listening to him.

Chuck had been doing his best to make it up to her. He'd looked after her for two days without bringing up Lylith.

But on the third day, someone showed up uninvited at their estate.

It was Lylith. She stood in the living room wearing a white shirt and jeans.

Chuck spoke up. "Lylith just got back to the country. The problem is, good jobs won't take someone without experience. Since you're hurt, I thought hiring her to look after you would be the best move."

Lylith smiled and gave Lorrie a little wave. "Ms. Scarrow, it's really nice to meet you."

Lorrie didn't even glance at Lylith. Instead, she snapped, "We agreed to keep her out of my sight. Or did you forget?"

"Look, I've got a ton of work coming up. If Lylith's here taking care of you, at least I'll know you're safe," Chuck said.

But Lorrie wasn't fooled. She knew he wanted Lylith living under their roof.

She ignored them both and headed back to her room.

Lylith's voice followed her, filled with hurt. "What am I supposed to do? I don't think Ms. Scarrow wants me around."

Chuck reassured her. "Don't worry about it. Just help where you can. I'm the one paying you, so don't overthink it."

Before long, Chuck had a chef from a star-rated restaurant prepare a full spread, with every single one of Lylith's favorite dishes.

As Chuck piled another helping onto Lylith's plate for the tenth time, she set her fork down and said, "Honestly, the chef's skills are overrated. You know what this needs? A little more spice."

Her eyes flicked pointedly toward Lorrie.

Chuck acted like he hadn't seen a thing. "Yeah, it could use more flavor. The spice rack is in the kitchen if you want it."

"But I'm not sure where you keep it..."

Chuck spoke to Lylith in a gentle voice. "You'll get familiar with everything soon enough."

He stood and made his way to the kitchen for the spices.

The instant Chuck wasn't looking, Lylith's pleasant mask slipped, her face contorting into something ugly.

"I heard you were at the bar three days ago, too. Then you probably already know Chuck paid 100 times my usual rate to book me for the whole month. He was afraid I'd run into another drunk guy, so he bought out the entire bar. I never have to go back to work anymore."

Lorrie said nothing.

"Not talking, huh? Guess you've figured out you're just a stand-in." Lylith smirked, her voice thick with disdain.

"Chuck and I started dating when we were just 17. We lived in this tiny rental, sharing a single bed and surviving on leftover food from the restaurant. I stuck with him through his hardest years, back when his family left him with nothing and pushed him out into the world to toughen him up.

"He worked three jobs a day to afford a birthday present for me. It didn't matter if it was pouring rain or blazing sun, he'd still haul himself to work every time.

"When I caught a cold, he stayed up all night wiping me down, bringing me water, and making sure I took my medicine. Even now, all it takes is a word from me, and he'll stop what he's doing to help.

"Face it, Lorrie. Chuck only has eyes for me. He loves me more than he loves himself. You're just another nobody in his little stand-in collection. Now that I'm back, you're nothing!"

Lorrie's hands shook faintly. She used to believe that someone as proud and privileged as Chuck would seethe with hatred after Lylith left him.

She thought love could never grow where hate had taken root. But now she saw the truth—his hate ran just as deep as his love.

Lorrie steadied herself. "You're overthinking it. Honestly, I couldn't care less. It's not like I'm dying to marry Chuck or anything."

The second the words slipped out, Chuck's voice came behind her. "What did you just say, Lorrie?"

Lorrie fought the urge to snap. "It's nothing. I'm done eating. I'll be in my room."

Chuck frowned, unsure if he'd heard her correctly.

Suddenly, Lylith brought a hand to her forehead. "I think my blood sugar level is dropping again. My head's spinning, and my heart's racing."

Chuck was at her side instantly. "You haven't been taking those supplements I got you, have you? How'd you let your sugar crash again? Close your eyes for a bit. I'll take care of it."

Lorrie didn't turn around, listening as Chuck dug through the sugar bowl hurriedly.

She took her laptop to the garden, planning to send the design sketches to the company at Pavrielle.

Out of nowhere, Chuck appeared behind her and draped a jacket over her shoulders. The faint trace of a woman's perfume clung to the fabric.

Frowning, Lorrie snapped the laptop shut. "What are you doing here?"

She used to ask Chuck to walk with her in the garden, but he always refused, claiming the pollen messed with his allergies.

And now here he stood.

"It's chilly out here. I didn't want you to catch a cold—"

Suddenly, a furious barking tore through the air. A wild-eyed hound came barreling straight for Chuck.

Lorrie barely had time to process what was happening before Lylith flung herself in front of him, only to be slammed into the ground by the snarling beast.

"Lylith!"

Chuck lost it. He seized the hound by its collar and hurled it aside. Realizing it was no match for him, it whirled around and went straight for Lorrie.

Paralyzed with fear, she pleaded. "Chuck, help me..."

But he was already gone, sprinting into the distance with Lylith limp in his arms. He didn't even glance back.

Lorrie's cries drowned in the hound's barking. Helpless, she could only watch as the snarling hound lunged straight for her.

As she squeezed her eyes shut, Chuck's old promise echoed in her mind. "I've raised that hound for years. Since it scares you, I'll keep it locked up. It won't get out again."

The beast's fangs sank into her thigh. Darkness swallowed her, and she knew no more.

…

The searing pain dragged Lorrie back to reality. She opened her eyes to find herself in a hospital bed, with Chuck keeping watch beside her.

"You're awake." He reached for her hand. "Are you still in pain?"

Lorrie swallowed her words. The ache in her chest cut deeper than the wound in her leg.

He knew how terrified she was of dogs, how that fear had gripped her ever since one tore into her as a child. And still, he'd left her alone to face that snarling beast, caring about nothing but Lylith's safety.

"Lylith got hurt protecting me. I can't just leave her hanging after that." Chuck's voice was sincere. "But you're different. We're partners for life."

Lorrie almost laughed.

Partners for life? Please. He wouldn't blink if she dropped dead tomorrow.

Then Chuck said the words that turned her stomach.

"Lylith is anemic. The hospital doesn't have her blood type. But you're a match—"

"Over my dead body!" Lorrie yanked her hand back. "The kennel gate's always locked, so why would the hound just happen to attack you then? And why was Lylith, who's never been in charge of garden work, suddenly there? Doesn't that all seem a little too convenient to you?"

It was obvious. Lylith had let the hound loose on purpose.

Lorrie had almost died because of her, and now Chuck wasn't just playing dumb. He wanted to take Lorrie's blood for Lylith.

That wasn't happening.

Her eyes locked onto Chuck's, searching for any flicker of guilt.

"You still don't get it, do you? We're in this together. You're my fiancee. I'll spend my whole life making it up to you. And it's just a little blood. When did you start getting worked up over such a tiny thing?"

Ignoring her protests, he called the doctor and had Lorrie taken to the phlebotomy room.

The needle pierced Lorrie's vein, sending a cold ripple through her body.

Chuck badgered the doctor to hurry, claiming she couldn't handle the pain. But Lorrie knew better. His impatience wasn't for her sake. It was for Lylith's.

When it was finally over, Lorrie pressed a hand to her arm and turned, only to find Chuck, the man who'd talked her into this, already gone.

She was on her way back to rest when she passed Lylith's hospital room and saw her lying still on the bed, fast asleep.

Chuck studied Lylith's face, his fist closed around something unseen. After a pause, he carefully took her hand and pressed the object into her palm.

"Don't you die on me, Lylith. This isn't how our story ends."