1: 1

After I divorced my cheating ex-husband, I moved thirty-three times, and every time, he found me.

He slit his wrists, swallowed sleeping pills, threw himself into a river. He begged me back with his own life on the line.

The last time, he cut open his throat, and his blood sprayed across my face.

When he came out of the ICU, he still gripped my wrist so hard it hurt, eyes red, begging to remarry me.

That time, I finally softened.

He wept with joy, and after we remarried, he gave me every reassurance I could ask for.

He changed all his passwords to my birthday, handed over his bank cards, kept the location on his phone open twenty-four hours a day.

Slowly, I let my guard down.

In our third year, I nearly died in a difficult labor, and he took care of me with a tenderness that missed nothing.

Even a frown from me sent him rushing over to ask if the incision hurt.

That night, late, I finished nursing and got up to use the bathroom.

Passing through the living room, I saw the iPad on the coffee table light up.

On the secret account he'd forgotten to log out of, a message from my sister popped up.

【Still didn't touch her tonight? No live show for me again.】

In the bedroom, rocking our baby to sleep, he answered almost instantly.

【Relax, you jealous little thing. I haven't touched her since she got pregnant.】

【Stop watching the camera and go to sleep. Stay up again and you'll feel awful tomorrow.】

So he had never cut ties with her.

The camera in our bedroom wasn't there to make it easier to watch over me and the baby.

It was there to prove his innocence.

Before the tears could fall, I made up my mind.

The inescapable pursuit of three years ago would not happen again.

......

From the bedroom came the sound of Giles Rowe humming Rainey to sleep, soft and patient.

But my whole body had gone cold.

The thought of it—every day, in that bedroom, baring my chest to nurse with no guard up, all of it seen by the person I hated most.

It made me gag and retch, and I couldn't stop.

He heard the noise and hurried out.

"What's wrong? Not feeling well again?" His brow creased.

I quietly turned the iPad's screen off.

"My stomach hurts a little. Get me a glass of water?"

He did, feeding it to me carefully.

"Any better?"

When I didn't answer, he touched my face, then my forehead.

"Still feeling bad? Should we go to the hospital?"

I looked at the concern in his eyes and asked softly.

"Giles, are you still in contact with Beatrice Sullivan?"

His eyes flickered. "I cut things off with her ages ago. Why are you suddenly asking?"

When I said nothing, his eyes reddened and he dropped to his knees, his voice pleading.

"I promised you, and I won't go back on my word. Nanette Sullivan, you can't leave me again."

"Is there something I did wrong that made you misunderstand?"

My nails dug into my palm. I forced down the trembling and managed a smile.

"It's nothing. I just suddenly thought of the past."

He let out a breath, took my hand, and led me back to the bedroom, his tone helpless.

"You never sleep. You just lie there and overthink everything."

Once we were lying down again, he reached for me out of habit.

I flinched away on reflex, turning my back to him. "It's hot."

He paused, then lowered the air conditioning two degrees.

"Nanette, I've already changed. You can't punish me over some baseless suspicion."

I said nothing.

A long while passed. He must have thought I'd fallen asleep.

In the dark, the light of his phone came on.

The sound of typing was unusually clear in the quiet room.

Light and fast, mixed with the breath of his soft laughter.

I had no urge to sleep at all.

Without warning, tears slid down and soaked the pillow.

I didn't sleep all night.

The next morning, before he left for work, he kissed my forehead.

"Don't sit at home overthinking. If you feel bad, call me right away."

The moment the door shut, I clapped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the bathroom.

A moment later.

I turned on the tap and rinsed the mess from my lips.

Back in the living room, I opened the iPad.

His chats with Beatrice Sullivan were easy and familiar. They clearly had never broken contact.

Just like three years ago, when I walked in on the two of them tangled together against the hotel's floor-to-ceiling window, cheek to cheek.

I bit down hard on the soft flesh of my tongue, forcing my eyes wide, reading every single word.

Reading how the man who had stopped touching me "for safety" ever since I got pregnant was playing dangerous games with Beatrice Sullivan.

Reading how the man who refused to let me come along on business trips because he "didn't want the distraction" had taken Beatrice Sullivan with him to conference after conference in other cities, sightseeing along the way.

When Beatrice Sullivan asked him,【Your sister or me—who do you like more?】, the line he shot back in a second.

【Her figure's gone to hell. She's no match for you.】

Eight little words.

They nailed me—the woman who dropped her guard to remarry him and bear his child—to a pillar of shame.

Tears crashed down onto the screen and blurred my sight.

I opened my phone, withdrew my resignation letter, and applied for the overseas posting.

My boss called back quickly.

"Nanette, it's wonderful that you're willing to come back, but Miami—are you sure?"

"This one's a confidential project. You can bring your family, but you won't be able to contact the outside world for at least three years."

I touched Rainey's face:【I'm sure.】

This time, I would take my child and leave quietly, and Giles Rowe would never find me again.

2: 2

The call had barely ended when Beatrice sent Giles another message.

【Giles, we agreed on this from the start. Once my sister has the baby for us, you divorce her. So when?】

【Rainey's still nursing. Let's at least wait until the baby's two.】

【Then promise me. She's had the baby now, so from now on you don't touch her.】

【I know, my jealous little thing.】

My hands and feet went cold as I read them going back and forth.

So all his begging for me to remarry him was because Beatrice wanted a baby.

But she was afraid of the pain, and afraid of losing her figure.

So he came up with the idea of letting me carry it instead.

【Nanette's one of us, we can trust her. Once the baby's born, I'll divorce her and take custody.】

I laughed out loud, all at once.

And as I laughed, my throat began to tighten.

For three years, everyone had said Giles loved me more than his own life.

He'd drive four hours round trip in the middle of the night to buy the fruit pastries I suddenly craved.

When I ran a high fever, he'd work and watch over me at the same time, three days and three nights without closing his eyes, and once my fever broke he was the one who collapsed.

When my legs cramped during the pregnancy, he'd rub my calves every night before bed, and only after I fell asleep would he slip out to the living room to ice his own aching, sore knuckles.

So all that tenderness was the wages he paid me, his little tool.

The joke of it was that I'd felt sorry for him, going to work and taking care of me and the baby both, so I'd handed in my resignation, planning to stay home and raise our child.

Lost in it, I heard the message tone go off again.

【I saw you gave her a necklace in the bedroom a couple of days ago. Didn't you say you bought it for me?】

【If you want it, I'll just buy you another one.】

She was getting worked up now.

【That's not the point! You promised that to me. Why would you give it to her?】

【And last time, you said you'd take me to a movie, and then because she got a clogged duct you drove halfway across the city looking for a lactation consultant for her, and I waited until the movie was over and you never showed up.】

【Aren't you being too good to her?】

This time he was quiet for much longer before he answered.

【Beatrice, whatever else she is, she's still your sister, not your enemy. In the end we're the ones who wronged her. I'm only making up for it.】

Reading his words, I felt nothing but the irony of it.

Beatrice was supposed to be the closest person I had.

Our parents died too young, and I'd taken on the burden of raising her when I was very small, which was how I grew into someone mature and steady.

Back then Giles had said he loved how quiet and reserved I was, then after he met Beatrice he changed his tune and said a girl ought to be lively and bright.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed the special way he treated her.

But when I told him to keep his distance from my sister, he only smiled and ruffled my hair.

Told me not to be petty, that she was going to be his little sister-in-law.

What came afterward was so dramatic that I hadn't let myself think about it for a long time.

They grew closer and closer, close enough to share a single straw.

The first time we married, even for the wedding rings, he insisted on picking the style she liked.

On our first anniversary, I walked in on the two of them tangled together, and Beatrice didn't tell him to stop. She just fixed her eyes on me and stared.

When I demanded, half out of my mind, to know why, her voice was very soft. She said, “An older sister is like a mother. You should share everything with me. All of it.”

And he, he kept Beatrice tucked behind him and said nothing, offering no defense.

I couldn't bear that the two most important people in my life had betrayed me.

I divorced him and blocked both of their numbers.

I thought our paths would never cross again as long as we lived.

But he threw himself into getting me back so completely that I softened again.

Thinking of all this, I laughed like a fool, and the tears kept falling.

I really was stupid. Stupid enough to believe he'd changed, stupid enough to want a heart that was true.

But peel back the disguise, and it had rotted through long ago.

Thank goodness there was still time.

3: 3

Once I made up my mind to leave, I started clearing out everything I didn't want.

The whole place had been decorated the way I liked it. Most of what filled it, I'd chosen myself.

Giles said he wanted me to feel at ease here, wanted me to wake up happy and come home happy every single day.

I'd picked the gray-blue curtains.

I'd sat in more than a dozen sofas before settling on that one.

The paintings on the walls—I'd only glanced at them a second too long, and he'd bought them on the spot.

Now, thinking it over slowly, none of it had ever really been my home. It was a cage he'd built to fit me exactly.

Things I used to love, I now hated even to look at.

So I swept it all into black trash bags.

Once everything was cleared, I pulled out my suitcase and packed only what mattered.

Giles came in from outside and frowned.

"Why does the place look so empty?"

I didn't look up, kept packing. "Getting rid of the stuff I don't want. Planning to buy some new things."

"Whatever makes you happy. Just tell me if you're short on money." His eyes fell on the bare vanity table. "I'm going on a business trip in a few days. Anything from duty-free you want me to bring back?"

"No need."

"Didn't you say last time you were out of that face cream, that brand you like?"

I was patting Rainey's back, coaxing her to sleep, and didn't lift my head. "I don't really want it anymore."

The things, the man—I didn't want any of it anymore.

...

Before the overseas posting, the family members traveling along had to get medical checkups too.

I finished Rainey's checkup, and while we were in line waiting for the results, I saw Giles and Beatrice standing outside the urgent-care clinic.

Her voice came soft and stuffed-up with a cold. "This is all your fault. You had the AC blasting yesterday and gave me a fever."

He pinched her nose, helpless. "And who insisted on doing it in the car? Lesson learned. Not next time."

The number was called just as his phone rang, so he didn't go in with her.

He hung up, turned around, and there I was, standing quietly.

The instant our eyes met, he froze, then came striding over.

"Nanette, why are you here? Is Rainey sick?"

He reached out to touch Rainey's face. I took a step back, my voice level.

"Company checkup. I brought Rainey along."

"Oh." His eyes flicked toward the exam room, and he answered before I could ask. "A client's ill. I came to keep them company."

I didn't ask what client was so important that a CEO had to escort them to the doctor himself.

"I'm going home first."

I didn't wait for his reply. I turned and left without looking back.

So I didn't see the complicated look in his eyes behind me.

That night he came home earlier than usual.

I sat in the living room watching TV and ignored him.

He came over carrying a cake.

"Nanette, didn't you say last time you wanted the cake from this place? I took a detour after work and picked it up for you."

I glanced at the logo.

I didn't know the brand.

But last time, following the trail, I'd dug up Beatrice's social media, and she'd posted it there.

On the outskirts of the city, ten-plus miles from his office.

I smiled.

Keep one foot in two boats and sooner or later it capsizes.

He saw me smile and thought I was pleased.

"Go on, try it." He held out the spoon.

I didn't take it. My smile faded. "Giles, I never said I wanted this place."

He went still. I rarely called him by his full name.

"Then I must have remembered wrong." His breathing turned uneven as he leaned in to kiss me. "Don't be upset. Whatever you want, I'll go buy it right now."

I dodged him. "Giles, let's get a divorce."

The color drained from his face, inch by inch.