Chapter 1

I'm someone with high emotional needs. I can't live without the love and closeness of the people I care about.

So when Kevin Henson brought up divorce again, I lost it completely.

I grabbed the water I'd just boiled off the table and hurled it at his feet, past caring.

"You want to see that woman again, don't you?"

He only looked at me, calm as ever.

"Georgina Winfield's only here today. I have to go."

A year ago, Kevin asked me for a divorce for the first time, over that hostess who worked the drinks at a nightclub.

I refused, absolutely refused. We fought so hard that both of them ended up in the hospital.

Back then, my best friend sat with me night after night.

And my mother threatened to kill herself if he didn't come home to his family.

In the end, Kevin gave in.

He cut off all contact with that woman and went back to being the good husband he used to be.

I thought our life had finally gotten back on track.

Until today.

He brought up divorce again and walked out without looking back.

I followed quietly. Before I pushed the door open, I'd already pictured a dozen ugly scenes, all of them ending in a screaming match.

But what I saw through the gap in the door froze me where I stood.

The woman I hated most was sitting right in the middle of them.

My mother was beside her, peeling shrimp for her with such tenderness it hurt to watch.

Kevin was gripping her hand tightly.

"Georgina, don't go back to that other world. Stay here, please?"

The woman sighed.

"I can only cross over for one day a month. Just getting to see you all is enough for me."

My best friend wiped at her tears.

"Doesn't love conquer everything? It's all because she keeps clinging on. She's the reason two people who love each other can't be together!"

My mother's voice caught as she picked it up.

"Thank God the you in that world grew up safe. I even pretended to kill myself to fool her, scared her half to death, but as long as it keeps you safe, there's nothing I wouldn't do."

"If we could, how we'd love to cross over and be with you..."

Something in me went slack.

So it turned out my best friend's company, my mother's love, my husband coming back to me — all of it, every bit of it, was to protect another woman.

Only my own heartbreak was the joke.

The instant a tear struck the back of my hand, a voice sounded in my ear.

"Do you want to go to another world, back to the family who truly loves you?"

...

I dug my fingers hard into my palms.

The sting of my nails biting into the flesh just barely held down the urge to kick the door open and go in.

The voice was still echoing in my ear.

I lowered my head and stayed silent for a long time.

"Okay."

A whole year of fighting for him. I was so tired. This time, I'd let them have what they wanted.

"One day from now, the Southside nightclub. That's the point where the two worlds meet."

The voice was gone.

I backed away, one step at a time, into the stairwell.

The dark swallowed me whole.

I walked out through the gates of the complex, and the cold wind poured straight down my collar.

It froze everything inside me stiff.

I don't know how I made it home.

I pushed the door open, and the whole apartment was full of the furniture Kevin had picked out for me.

I curled up on the couch, and my tears soaked a wide patch into the throw pillow.

My mind slowly blurred.

In my dream, my mother held my hand, her eyes crinkled with a smile.

The year I failed my SATs and fell into depression.

She quit her job as an executive at a multinational firm and gave up half a lifetime of career.

Every day she made me three meals, changing it up so I wouldn't tire of it, bringing them to my bed and feeding me one bite at a time.

"Don't cry, Dar. If you didn't get in, then you didn't. Mom will take care of you for the rest of your life."

And Kevin had severe claustrophobia.

Once we got stuck in an elevator when it broke down, hanging halfway up the shaft.

He was shaking all over, barely able to breathe.

But when he saw me crying from fear, he forced himself calm,

held me against him, and got through three whole hours in the dark.

"Don't be scared, Darlene Winfield. I'll never let anything happen to you."

He remembered every one of my periods. If I so much as frowned, he'd break out in a nervous sweat.

That love was heavy, wrapping around me so completely there wasn't a crack for air.

"You actually had an older sister. She got very sick at five and didn't make it."

That one offhand thing my mother once said suddenly went loud in my ears.

The next instant, the dream shattered.

I dreamed again of the first time Kevin cheated.

At the very start, it was the passenger seat of his car, pushed forward by three centimeters,

and his phone, always turned facedown on the table when he came home.

The moment I sensed something was wrong, my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I didn't want to believe it.

How could the husband who'd throw away his own life for me be cheating?

I held it in and watched him for two full weeks.

In the end, I followed him and stopped outside a hotel.

When I rushed in, their bodies were still locked together.

I grabbed the lamp and hurled it at them.

Kevin reacted in a flash. He yanked the blanket over and shielded Georgina completely beneath him.

My fists, my palms, the base of the lamp,

all of it landed on Kevin.

From start to finish, Georgina wasn't hurt in the slightest.

Kevin took my beating without flinching, lifted his head, and pointed at the door, his eyes bloodshot.

"Get out!"

Watching the way he shielded that woman with everything he had,

I stood there gasping for breath.

In that moment I thought, in despair, that I would never let them have it.

Never...

My eyes snapped open.

Cold sweat had soaked through my nightclothes.

At some point a blanket had been draped over me.

Kevin was sitting beside the couch, looking down at me.

For a second, I thought we'd gone back to the way things used to be.

But the jasmine scent lingering at the tip of my nose reminded me.

That was Georgina's scent.

I stared at him, my eyes trembling faintly.

"I agree to the divorce."

He stared back, startled, trying to find some sign that I was faking, testing him.

The next second, he leaned in and pulled me hard into his arms, blanket and all.

"Don't say things you don't mean, Darlene. We're not getting divorced."

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I made your favorite, barbecue ribs. Come on, eat a little, hm?"

He coaxed me, humbling himself.

My fingers curled into the couch cushion without my noticing.

When I said nothing, he ruffled my hair and went off to the kitchen on his own to warm up the food.

I watched his back.

My eyes fell on the phone on the coffee table.

Ever since he came back to the family a year ago, that phone had had all its passcodes removed.

A message notification chimed out of nowhere.

But when I opened it, there was nothing new.

My fingertip stopped.

I searched for a long while and found a hidden second system.

A whole new messaging app screen popped up.

There was only one contact pinned at the top.

The label: Wife.

My breath caught, and a dense, dull ache spread across my chest.

Then what about me?

What was I?