Chapter 2

Seeing me stay quiet, he reached into his pocket and tossed a jewelry box onto my lap like it was nothing.

"Your anniversary necklace. Got it back for you."

"Isn't that what you were throwing a fit about? Wendy just wanted to borrow it for a couple days. Don't be so petty."

I slowly raised my eyes, and it took me a long moment to remember that a month ago had been our wedding anniversary.

That same day, he'd taken me up the mountain to watch the sunrise.

It was well below freezing. The middle of the night. And he left me there alone — all because Wendy had a bad dream.

He abandoned me on that mountain. Didn't come back for the entire night.

The anniversary gift meant for me ended up around Wendy's neck instead.

Even now, I could still feel that bone-deep cold crawling up my spine.

And he thought I was upset over a necklace.

I opened the box. The ruby that had once glowed with a deep, rich red was dull and lifeless now. The chain was spotted with rust.

It was obvious. This was a fake.

I pushed the box back toward him.

"Keep it. She can have it if she likes it."

My tone was distant, and Ethan's expression darkened.

He started to say something, then glanced down at the cheap knockoff in his hand. A brief flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

"Wendy must have grabbed the wrong one by accident. I'll get you a new one."

Then he let out a fond, indulgent little laugh.

"She grew up without much. Doesn't know the difference between a real one and a fake. Don't be too hard on her."

The way he defended her was so obvious it was almost insulting.

The old me would have flipped out right there in the car.

But I just smiled along and nodded.

"Right. Hard to know better when you've never had much to begin with."

Ethan blinked, caught off guard by how calm I was.

Then he turned and reached back to ruffle my hair.

"Why are you being so reasonable today? Finally coming around?"

"As long as you stop going after Wendy, I'll get you whatever you want."

"Everything in this family will be yours and the baby's someday. You don't need to fight with her. Learn to be the bigger person."

"I'll have the nursery done by next month. This week's just a little busy."

I turned my head slightly and let his hand fall away without making it obvious.

This weekend was Wendy's birthday.

No matter what, her things always came first.

"Forget the nursery. Just drive. I'm tired."

We'd been on the road for a little while when Ethan's phone went off.

Loud and shrill — the ringtone he'd set just for Wendy.

My brow tightened before I could stop it. My stomach turned.

For the past six months, that ringtone had been the sound of my nightmares.

At all hours, without pause, filling the house — never letting me rest.

Wendy was like a grown child who couldn't function without Ethan. Power went out in the house. Thunder rumbled outside. A delivery driver glanced at her a second too long.

She'd dissolve into tears and beg Ethan to come be with her.

It was such a cheap, obvious act. And Ethan ate it up every single time.

How many times had I cried and begged him not to go?

He'd just give me that flat, cold look and say:

"Grow up. Wendy's not like you. She's sensitive. She gets scared easily."

He'd forgotten that this "sensitive little thing" he was always making excuses for was six years older than me.

Through the phone, Wendy's crying came through loud and clear.

"Ethan, I was trying to make a welcome-home dinner for Jess tomorrow. I'm so clumsy — I cut my hand while I was prepping."

"Don't cry. I'm on my way." His voice went tight with urgency.

"No, take Jess home first. I'll be fine on my own. It's just — there's so much blood. I'm scared."

The word blood made him slam the brakes. The sudden stop threw my body hard into the seat.

The impact hit my injuries. I clenched my teeth against the pain.

He was already starting to turn the car around. Then he remembered I was in the back seat.

"Jess, maybe you could—"

"Go. I'll get a cab."

I didn't wait for him to finish. I pulled the door open and stepped out.

I walked to the curb and raised my hand for a ride, unbothered.

Ethan hesitated, watching me for a moment, like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Then Wendy's crying pulled at him, and he pressed the gas and drove away.