Chapter 3

The drive back was suffocating.

Lily gripped the steering wheel and let it all out.

"Has Ethan completely lost his mind? He ghosts you during a miscarriage, won't even show up, and now he's playing devoted daddy-to-be for someone else's kid?"

"Mia, if you forgive him this time, I swear to God I'm done with you."

I leaned my head against the passenger window and watched the city blur past. My eyes felt hollow.

My phone buzzed in my bag.

A Snapchat from Ethan.

[Joanna got a little shaken up after what Lily said. Her doctor wants to monitor her. I'm taking her in to get checked.]

[What do you want for dinner? I'll grab it on my way home.]

I stared at the words. She got shaken up. Something cold wrapped itself around my chest and squeezed.

Three months ago, I came out of surgery barely able to walk a straight line. I messaged him. Told him I was in so much pain.

He wrote back: [It was a minor procedure. Stop being so dramatic. I'm in a meeting.]

So. Someone else's baby catching a scare was a crisis worth dropping everything for.

But me losing a life — that was just me being dramatic.

I turned the screen off and dropped the phone back in my bag.

"Lily." I closed my eyes. My voice came out barely above a whisper. "I'm not forgiving him. Not this time. Not ever."

Lily hit the brakes hard enough to jolt us both. She turned and stared at me, eyes already going red.

"Mia. God. You should've done this so much sooner. Do you have any idea how much you've given up for him? Seven years. Your whole twenties. You put your career on the line for him. And he treated you like — "

Seven years.

I was twenty-one when I moved into that basement apartment with Ethan. It was barely four hundred square feet and always smelled like damp concrete, but we were in it together, and I didn't care.

His startup was hemorrhaging money. He had no way out.

I went behind his back and sold the one thing I had — a vintage cello my grandfather had left me. Irreplaceable. Gone. The money, half a million dollars, went straight into his account.

That night he held me and sobbed like a kid. He promised me. He said he would spend the rest of his life making me the happiest woman in the world.

Then he made it. The Cole Group became a name people recognized. He became exactly what everyone wanted him to be — young, successful, the kind of man who gets featured in magazines.

And he got busier. And more distant. And came home less and less.

He said he didn't want marriage. I said okay, I'll wait.

He said he didn't want kids, said it would be too much of a distraction. I said okay.

Then three months ago, the pregnancy happened.

I thought it was a gift. I actually went out and bought a pair of baby shoes — tiny things with little bunny ears on them — and hid them in the back of my closet. I kept imagining the look on his face when I finally showed them to him.

Instead, reality hit me harder than anything I'd ever felt.

That evening, I came home to the penthouse apartment Ethan and I shared.

I pushed open the door to find the crystal chandelier blazing in the living room.

Joanna Quinn was stretched out on the sofa, covered with Ethan's favorite cashmere throw.

The coffee table was covered in washed fruit. Right in the center — a plate of sliced kiwi.

I'm severely allergic to kiwi.

Even being in the same room as it is enough to make my skin break out in hives. In bad cases, it affects my breathing.

Ethan was in his home clothes, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

He saw me standing in the entryway and stumbled slightly. Something flickered across his face.

Like he'd been caught off guard by his own life.

"You're back."

I didn't take off my shoes. I looked past him, straight at Joanna.

"Why is she here?"

Joanna sat up immediately, like a startled rabbit. Her eyes filled instantly, and she looked at me with that particular brand of fragile helplessness.

"Mia, please don't misunderstand. I went for a checkup today and the doctor said the pregnancy is unstable — I need to rest. I was scared to be alone. Ethan offered to let me stay here for a few days, just until things settle..."

Ethan set the milk down on the coffee table and turned to me with a look that said he'd already decided how this conversation was going to go.

"Joanna's situation is serious. She doesn't know anyone in this city. As a friend, I can't just leave her on her own. This place has four bedrooms — she'll be in the guest room. It won't affect you."

I stared at him. The sheer nerve of it almost made me laugh.

"As a friend, you have a responsibility? Ethan, did you forget — this is my home. You brought a pregnant woman into our home. Did you think to ask me first?"

His expression hardened.

"Mia, do you have to be so aggressive about everything? She's just staying for a few days. Why do you have to make it a thing?"

"Just staying." I walked toward him slowly, and pointed at the kiwi on the coffee table. "You let her eat kiwi in here. You know what happens to me if I even get near that."

Something shifted in his eyes. He looked at the plate.

"I... forgot. Joanna said she was craving something sour, so I just picked it up without thinking."

Forgot.

Seven years together. And my most dangerous allergy was something he could just forget.

Joanna scrambled up from the sofa, flustered. "I'm so sorry, Mia — I had no idea you were allergic. Let me get rid of it right now..."

She reached for the plate, and then her legs buckled. She started to go down.

"Watch out!"

Ethan crossed the room in an instant and caught her, pulling her against his chest. The reflex was too smooth. Too practiced.

He turned and looked at me like I was the one who'd done something wrong.

"Mia, enough. Are you trying to actually hurt her?"

I watched them — his arms around her, her face against his shoulder — and felt my stomach turn.

I was done talking.

I walked into the bedroom and dragged out the suitcase I'd already half-packed.

Ethan followed me in and grabbed the case.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving." I pulled his hand off the handle. My voice was completely flat.

He looked at me like I was speaking another language.

"Because I let Joanna stay for a few days? Mia, when did you get this petty?"

I stuffed the last few things in, zipped the bag shut, and stood up.

"It's not about her."

I looked at him straight on.

"Ethan. It's about seven years. It's about finally realizing that the man I fell in love with doesn't actually have a heart."

He went still. Like something in my expression actually reached him.

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." I grabbed the handle. "We're done."