Chapter 2

Jamie's POV

Two in the morning. Ethan pushed open the door.

I was sitting beside the floor lamp in the living room, a book open on my lap, no pages turned.

Today was the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Ethan Foster.

It was also the fifth year he had completely forgotten.

Ethan smelled of alcohol. When his beautiful eyes landed on me, they curved into a smile.

"Jamie! I knew you'd still be up."

He walked over, looped his long arm around my neck, and half-collapsed against me, bringing with him a cloud of sweet, unmistakably feminine perfume.

"Come on, make me some honey water. My head's killing me."

My heart ached so badly I could barely breathe, but I just pushed him off with a tired look.

"Ethan, you're almost thirty, not three. Would it kill you to drink less?"

"I was celebrating." Ethan threw himself onto the couch, his long legs propped up on the coffee table without a care in the world, his grin bright enough to hurt. "Jamie, she's back."

My hand stilled on the glass I was pouring.

I didn't need to ask who she was.

There was only one person who could make Ethan Foster look that stupidly, helplessly happy. Sophia Whitfield.

"Congratulations." I kept my back to him, my voice frighteningly calm.

Ethan took a few gulps of the honey water and grabbed my wrist, buzzing with excitement. "She's divorced. Her ex treated her badly. She's been through so much. Jamie, this is my chance!"

I looked at this man I had loved for twenty-two years straight.

From the time I was five until now, at twenty-seven, I had grown up alongside Ethan. I had stood by him through fights, skipped class with him, and watched him chase after Sophia.

And when he blew up his relationship with his entire family over her and hit rock bottom, I had stayed. Right there beside him.

His family, desperate to make him move on, started looking for a suitable match for him within their circle.

Ethan decided it didn't matter who he married. He even told his father: "As long as it's not Sophia, it's all the same to me."

I was the one who stepped forward. I said, "If it's all the same to you, then marry me, Ethan. A fake marriage. When you're free of your family, or when she comes back, I'll give you a divorce whenever you want."

Back then, Ethan had held me and sobbed. "Jamie, you're the best person in my whole life. I promise you, you'll always have a place in this family. Nobody will ever make you feel like you don't belong."

He kept that promise.

For five years, he gave me every privilege and protection. He trusted me more than anyone. The safe combination, the company's most sensitive secrets, even his personal seal. He held nothing back.

He was good to me, except for one thing.

He didn't love me.

"Since she's back, let's get divorced."

Ethan blinked.

"Already?"

"She's back. It's time for me to step aside." I stood up, my downcast lashes hiding everything behind my eyes. "I'll contact a lawyer and have the divorce papers drawn up as soon as possible. I'll pack my things and be out of here quickly."

Ethan studied my unnervingly calm expression and hesitated.

"Jamie, I'm not going to shortchange you on the settlement. The penthouse in Manhattan, plus one percent of Foster Group's shares."

One percent of Foster Group. Worth hundreds of millions. He was, as always, generous.

"And don't move too far after the divorce. The house in Beverly Hills is yours too. It's close by. We'll still be best friends. Whatever you need, just say the word. I promised I'd look out for you for the rest of your life."

I looked down at the plain silver band on my ring finger.

We'd bought it at a roadside jewelry stand on the day we filed the paperwork.

Ethan had tossed it to me casually and said, "If we're going to put on a show, we need the right props. Just wear it."

That cheap silver ring, I had worn it for five years without ever taking it off. I had worn it so long it left a faint mark on my finger.

Best friends?

What I felt for him had never been friendship.

I slowly slid the ring off and set it on the table. It made a small, quiet sound.

"You don't have to do that." My voice came out a little rough. "Ethan, I just want you to be happy."

"What's with the formality?" Ethan frowned. "You'll need money when you get married someday..."

He suddenly laughed, like he'd just thought of something funny. "Actually, I almost forget sometimes that you're a woman. God help whoever falls for you."

Something rose in my throat, sharp and metallic. I forced it back down.

"Ethan." I called his full name, my eyes stinging just slightly.

"Yeah?" He was already looking down at his phone, texting Sophia, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, not even glancing up.

"...I'm tired. I'm going to bed." The words I have loved you for twenty-two years rotted silently in my chest.

"Wait, Jamie."

I stopped. And somewhere deep and humiliating, a tiny flicker of hope lit up.

Had he remembered? That today was our anniversary? That I had spent five years never leaving his side?

"There's a charity gala tomorrow night. Come with me."