Chapter 1

On my birthday, my husband Joseph—the one who was terrified of heights—claimed he had to work late. Then he turned up in his student Betty's Instagram story, skydiving with her.

On Christmas Day, I asked him to come with me to see my parents. He said his project was too demanding. Meanwhile, he was out having dinner with Betty to celebrate.

My fingers went numb as I scrolled through the videos on her page, one after another.

Watching all those sweet, everyday little moments unfold on my screen, I made up my mind to have it out with Joseph.

But I was stopped at his office door.

"Mrs. Smith, Professor Smith might still be busy in there—today's the day his favorite student Betty is presenting her project results. Maybe… you could wait a bit?"

I stood up.

"No need. Tell Joseph to get ready for a divorce."

…

Back home, I went straight upstairs to the bedroom to pack.

I'd just placed the signed divorce agreement on the nightstand when I looked up into a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Joseph's gaze landed on the two large suitcases beside me. He frowned.

"There was a student defense at noon today. I had to be there, couldn't get out in time. Are you upset again?"

I ignored him, grabbed the suitcases, and headed for the door.

He pressed down firmly on my shoulders, pinning me in place.

"Grace. Talk to me."

He watched me calmly, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. "Grace, when are you going to break this bad habit of going silent every time you're angry?"

I couldn't budge the suitcases from his grip, so I straightened up. "I want a divorce."

"Reason."

"You're cheating on me. Is that reason enough?"

I pried his hands off and reached for the suitcases again.

He blocked me once more.

"Grace, can you stop this? You're the only one I have."

"Am I?"

I pulled out my phone. "Then who is she?"

I tapped on Betty's latest video. The footage of the two of them skydiving was crystal clear.

"Weren't you the one who said you were afraid of heights? That you hated extreme sports? So why aren't you afraid of heights when it's her?"

"Tell me. Why is that, Joseph?"

I tried to keep my voice level.

"Grace, you've been checking up on me?"

No apology. No admission. No explanation. Not what I'd imagined at all.

Just an accusation.

"Don't you think you should be explaining this first?"

He tugged at his tie irritably, took a deep breath.

"Her name's Betty. She's one of my students. The kid was feeling down last week, so I went skydiving with her."

"That's all it was."

"Joseph. Do you honestly believe that yourself?"

One video could be explained away.

But this many? How was he going to spin all of them?

He went silent.

I grabbed the suitcases again. He spoke.

"Give me some time. I'll sort it out."

"Get out of my way!"

I shoved him hard and walked straight out the door.

I went back to my parents' house. I didn't tell them about the divorce.

I just made up some excuse—said he'd been busy lately, and I felt lonely being home alone.

Thankfully, they didn't ask too many questions.

The next day, I went to my studio as usual, only to find someone standing at the entrance.

Betty.

She looked the same as in her photos—white dress, a little nervous.

I walked past her and unlocked the door. She called after me.

"Grace, I need to talk to you. Can we talk?"