Kent Delgado stood in the doorway, and the instant he saw me, his pupils shrank.

"You're home? I missed you so much~"

As he passed me, he dropped his voice low enough for only me to hear:

"Philippa, go home first."

He didn't look at me once. He just shut the door.

I stood outside for a long time. Then I heard him say:

"Charlotte, were you a good girl while I was gone?"

That tenderness in his voice was one I knew by heart. My nose stung, and before I could stop it, the tears fell.

I hadn't been home long when Kent came back too.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" He frowned, studying me.

"Kent, why did you betray me?"

I forced the sob back down.

He sat down in front of me and gripped my hands tight.

"Philippa, don't read too much into it. It's just a misunderstanding. She's a younger girl I know. There's nothing between us."

Everything I'd seen at that mansion today flashed through my mind.

"A younger girl? Does a younger girl call you her husband? Does a younger girl get half a million a month from you?"

"Weren't you the one who told me we had to split every penny in half to scrape together the down payment for our wedding home?"

Kent pressed down the impatience in his eyes.

"Philippa Simmons, are you done? I already told you it's a misunderstanding. Do you really have to keep clawing at it?"

"A misunderstanding? Is it a misunderstanding that she lives in a mansion and I live in a basement?"

"Is it a misunderstanding that you buy her a three-hundred-thousand-dollar necklace but wouldn't even give me money to see a doctor?"

The moment he saw my tears, something like panic crossed his eyes.

"Philippa, I—"

"You what? Kent, you look ridiculous when you lie."

"Enough!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated.

"Fine, I admit it. I've kept her for three years. But I spend most of my time with you, don't I? Is there any need to make a scene?"

"What I give her is money. What I give you is love. That's perfectly fair. What do you have to be unhappy about?"

"Fair?"

The tears dropped onto the table one after another. I pulled a smile onto my face.

"Kent, I've been with you for five years. In your eyes, all I'm worth is fair. Is that it?"

He was silent for a moment, then tossed out one line: "Think whatever you want."

The door slammed hard behind him.

I sat there staring at nothing for a while, and suddenly I felt ridiculous.

We'd been together five years, and he'd been keeping that woman for three of them.

I wiped the tears off my face and got up to pack.

When I saw the scarf by the bed, I paused.

There'd been a rare blizzard in Chicago that winter. The office was far from home, I couldn't get a car no matter what I tried, and I was shaking with cold.

I'd steeled myself and decided to just walk back when I saw Kent making his way toward me, stumbling through the snow.

He'd taken the scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around me. I laughed and told him his hair had gone white.

He said, if we could stand in the falling snow together today, then we could count on growing old together, white-haired, for the rest of our lives.

But Kent, all of a sudden, I don't want to grow old with you anymore.

Once I'd packed, the suitcase was only half full.

Only then did it hit me how little I had to show for all these years.

Early the next morning, I picked up my suitcase, ready to go.

Then someone started pounding on the basement door, bang after bang.

I opened it and looked—it was the woman Kent was keeping.

She swept a glance around the room and pressed a hand over her nose.

"I'm Charlotte Matthews. Name your price. How much to walk away from Kent."

Her eyes landed on me, full of contempt.

I let out a scornful laugh.

"How much? A mistress, and you think you get to say that to me?"

Charlotte's face twisted for a second, then smoothed right back over.

"Don't flatter yourself, granny. Understand this. Wherever a man's money goes, that's where his love is."

"And every time he leaves this place he feels like he's been dragged through the gutter. He goes home and scrubs himself for an hour."

I stepped closer and stared her down.

"And then? If he's so disgusted by me, why hasn't he broken it off?"

Her expression went dark in an instant. One hand clamped around my arm, and with the other she swung at me, hard.

Crack.

I turned my face with it, my cheek burning.

Before she could react, I caught her wrist and swung back with everything I had.

"Philippa! What do you think you're doing?!"

The furious shout came, and in the same breath I was kicked flying.

I bit down hard on my lip, a savage pain tearing through my ribs.

Kent walked up to me, his eyes cold and hard.

"Who said you could touch her? I told you, if you've got a problem, take it up with me!"

He looked at me doubled over in pain, and something like guilt flickered in his eyes.

"Pippa, Charlotte's young, she doesn't know any better. Can't you cut her a little slack?"

"Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

I forced the words out through my teeth.

"I'm making a big deal…"

Before I could finish, a slap knocked me to the floor.

"You actually dared to hit me just now?"

Charlotte's face was twisted with rage as she raised her foot and stomped down on me, again and again.

Kent gave me one pained look, then turned his face away.

Fists and feet rained down all over me, until I felt like I was coming apart.

It was a while before Kent finally came over to pull Charlotte off.

"Pippa, don't blame me for this."

"You're too strong. You're like a hardwood tree. No matter what, you'll survive."

"But Charlotte's different. She's a flower raised in a greenhouse. She's never been hit in her life. If she doesn't get to hit back, she'll be upset."

It was a long time before I managed to lift my head from the floor.

"So you think I should not only pretend I don't know about the two of you, I should stand there and take the hits and the insults without a word?"

I laughed, and the tears ran down anyway.

"That's right. What else?"

Charlotte's eyes were pure contempt.

"You didn't actually think you could take Kent away from me, did you?"

And with that she backhanded me across the face again.

Ignoring the blood at the corner of my mouth, I looked at Kent.

"You think so too, don't you?"

Something tightened in Kent's chest.

"That's not it, Pippa…"

He didn't get to finish. My voice was hoarse when I cut him off.

"Enough, you don't have to say anything. I understand now."

"All of it is my own fault. Kent, let's break up."

"Break up? Dumped is more like it."

Charlotte pulled out a wad of cash and threw it in my face.

"From Kent, through me. Five years of you, and this is all it's worth."

I gave Kent one long look, then braced myself against the wall and got to my feet.

I went to drag my suitcase over, and Kent grabbed my wrist.

"Pippa, if you're willing, I can get you a new place. A whole other apartment."

I saw the certainty in his eyes.

He thought I couldn't bear to leave him. But someone else had already been waiting a long time for me, and I didn't want to keep him waiting anymore.

I slapped Kent hard across the face and walked out, limping.

Two days later, Kent went to my company to find me. He figured by now I'd have cooled off, just like every other time.

"Philippa? She quit two days ago."

The receptionist gave him an odd look.

Kent's breath caught. He remembered what I'd said before.

The color drained from his face, and he turned and rushed out without looking back.