Chapter 2

Nathan paused, then brushed a finger over my nose.

“Silly. It’s Halloween.”

His voice was impossibly indulgent.

“What’s wrong with getting my favorite woman a few essentials? It’s not like I’ve never bought them for you before.”

He lay beside me, winding a lock of my hair around his finger.

“Besides, you always stock up around this time of year when they’re on sale. Now you don’t have to worry about it. Your husband’s taken care of everything.”

I stared at him.

“Then why this brand? And why so many daytime pads?”

“Everyone online says their mesh tops are good. They keep you feeling dry.”

He answered instantly, without so much as a flicker in his eyes.

“You always buy cotton ones, so I thought you could try something different. And you can use the daytime ones on your lighter days. Convenient, right?”

As he spoke, he rolled toward his nightstand and took out a blue velvet box.

“And that’s not all, sweetheart.”

He handed it over with a slightly smug smile.

“It’s Halloween. You didn’t think pads were your only treat, did you? Open it.”

Inside was a pearl necklace. The pearls were large and perfectly round, with a soft, rich luster. It was obviously expensive.

“Australian South Sea pearls. They’ll look beautiful on you.”

He took the necklace out, moving to fasten it around my neck.

“Do you like it?”

I looked at those cold beads without moving.

“What’s wrong?”

He studied me.

“Nothing.”

I closed the box, set it aside, and said casually, “Must have cost a lot. It’s just… I’m pretty sure I told you I don’t really like pearls.”

“Did you?”

Nathan blinked and thought for a moment.

“I don’t remember. Women can never have too much jewelry. One more piece won’t hurt. All those society wives and daughters have pearls.”

My heart sank, little by little. He didn’t remember.

When he’d been pursuing me relentlessly, I’d told him about my family.

Soon after my mother died, my father took up with another woman.

She took most of our family’s money, then came to the house wearing a bracelet of fat, round pearls. She flaunted it in my face and threw me out. I ended up growing up in foster care.

That year, as snow fell around us, I’d cried and told him, “I hate pearls. Every time I see them, I think of that disgusting woman and the father who abandoned me.”

He’d held me, heartbroken for me, and sworn, “I’ll never make you look at another pearl. I’ll never let you be reminded of any of that.”

Now he held a pearl necklace and said, “I don’t remember.”

“Thanks, honey.”

I forced a smile and picked up the box.

“My stomach feels a little off. Go to sleep without me.”

I hid in the bathroom and locked the door.

The pads weren’t for me. He’d forgotten why I hated pearls. Nathan was lying.

I’d searched his phone, but found nothing suspicious.

No. There was somewhere else to look.

There was one name in his contacts that stood out from all the others.

Nina Brooks, a financially struggling college student whose education he sponsored.

She’d come from a remote mountain town and earned a place at a prestigious university in our city. I was the one who had approved helping her.

I remembered that small, skinny girl coming to our house for dinner once. Her eyes had been timid, but they lit up when she talked about school.

Nathan had said, “That girl’s got a stubborn streak. Reminds me of you back then.”

Why did he have at least a few messages with every other woman in his contacts?

Why was his conversation with Nina completely blank?

It was as spotless as rain-washed glass. Nothing hidden from view—and far too clean to feel natural.