Chapter 1

I helped my best friend, Clara Bellamy, climb out of poverty and become a parish schoolteacher.

Now she was glowing, graceful, confident. No one would ever guess that five years ago, she was still picking eggs in a backyard chicken coop.

But she was still frugal. She always said money shouldn’t be wasted.

So whenever I was too busy, she gladly took the things I couldn’t use: free couple vacations I’d won, movie tickets about to expire, romantic restaurant reservations I’d already booked.

My fiancé, Vincent DeLuca, never complained when I canceled on him. Even though he was the next heir to the mafia family, he was always gentle with me.

He always said, “I’ll support your work, no matter how long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

Until that day.

I had just applied for a six-month leave from the hospital to prepare for our wedding. While helping Clara fix her computer, her photo album synced automatically.

The screen filled with photos.

My best friend and my fiancé sitting side by side on a ski lift.

Her leaning on his shoulder during a midnight movie.

The two of them kissing under an island sunset.

So all those dates I missed, she had gone in my place.

Then a Signal voice message popped up.

Vincent’s voice came through, low and amused.

“She’s sleeping at the hospital tonight. Bring a few boxes of condoms when you come over, baby.”

My hands shook as I shut the laptop.

Then I grabbed my car keys and walked toward the hospital parking lot.

...

I sped all the way to our wedding house.

The second I pushed the door open, the air was thick with smoke and the smell of sex.

The two people on the bed didn’t even have time to separate.

Clara saw me first. She screamed, her face turning white.

“Evelyn...”

Vincent turned to look at me, then instinctively shielded her behind him.

Clothes and wrappers were scattered all over the floor.

I froze in place, so shocked I forgot how to breathe.

I watched Vincent pick up Clara’s clothes from the floor and help her get dressed, piece by piece.

He was gentle. Familiar.

Then he walked her to the door and comforted her in a low voice.

“Someone’s waiting downstairs. I’ll handle this.”

I hadn’t even done anything yet.

But he was already afraid I’d lose control and hurt his precious Clara.

Something in my chest went hollow, like everything inside had been carved out.

Then it was just me and him in the room.

I stared at the face I had known since childhood.

We had known each other for over twenty years. He once said he wanted to be my shadow and follow me forever.

But now, that face felt so strange.

Vincent took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag before looking at me.

“You have nothing to say?”

He was the one who betrayed me.

So why was I the one standing there, lost and being questioned?

“Vincent DeLuca. How could you two do this to me?”

He flicked the ash from his cigarette. His tone was calm.

“I admit I messed up. But Evelyn, ask yourself. What have you given me these past few years?”

“You’re always busy. Always in surgery. I ask you to dinner, you have surgery. I ask you to watch a movie, you’re on duty. I can’t even argue with you unless I book a time three days in advance.”

He sounded wronged when he said it.

As if I was the one at fault.

As if I was the one who cheated.

“Clara is different.”

His voice softened when he said her name.

“She cares about how I feel. She remembers what I say. She does the things I want to do.”

“She went on every date you missed.”

“To her, I come first.”

Every word cut into my heart.

“Vincent DeLuca! I was already like this when you met me. I never changed!”

He frowned, like I was being unreasonable.

“Right. You didn’t change. But I’m tired of waiting.”

My voice shook.

“So you slept with my best friend?”

He was silent for two seconds.

“I told you. This isn’t her fault.”

I took a deep breath, walked up to him, and slapped him across the face.

“You really have no heart. How could you do this to me?”

He didn’t dodge.

The cigarette fell from his fingers, sparks landing on the sheets.

He looked up at me. Finally, there was some emotion in his eyes.

“Is that enough? If not, hit me again.”

“When you’re done, don’t go after Clara.”

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, my phone rang.

It was the hospital.

“Dr. Moretti, surgery starts in half an hour.”

Vincent suddenly gave a soft laugh.

It was quiet, but it pierced my ears like a needle.

“Go on, Dr. Moretti. Your fiancé just slept with your best friend, and you still have to go back for surgery.”

“You really are the most tolerant woman I’ve ever seen.”

I gripped my phone so tightly my fingers turned white.

Afraid my tears would fall, I turned and left.