Chapter 3

My plane lands in Miami. The second I turn my phone on, the event coordinator calls.

"Mrs. Cole, the housewarming party tomorrow has been moved to Miss Marsh's unit. Is that right?"

I booked that party two weeks ago.

The confirmation form originally said Ethan & Ivy Cole's Housewarming.

Now it says Audrey Marsh's New Home Celebration.

The guest list and the menu are exactly the same.

"Who changed it?"

"Mr. Cole."

I cancel the booking and get my deposit back.

Two minutes later, Ethan calls.

"You canceled the party?"

"That was my housewarming."

He pauses.

"I had someone look into it. You took off to Miami. Audrey just moved some new furniture in, so I let her use the reservation. What's the big deal?"

"You swapped my name for hers. Same food, same guests, same everything."

I raise my voice.

"That was the first time I ever invited our friends to our home."

He sighs.

"It's the same damn building. Why does the floor matter? Come back, I'll throw you another one."

I hang up and tell our friends the party is off.

A little while later, the interior designer posts on Instagram.

The photos show the condo building. Ethan's building.

The caption reads: Audrey's place is finally done! Thanks to Ethan for checking every detail.

I tap on the photos.

On one of the design sketches, I see notes in handwriting I recognize.

Plant flowers on the balcony.

Get a dog after we move in.

Go grocery shopping together on weekends.

If we ever have a baby, save the sunny spare room for the nursery.

Six years ago, Ethan and I wrote those down together in our tiny studio apartment.

And in the finished photos, the flower boxes are installed. The dog bed is set up. The sunny spare room is already decorated.

Six years of promises he made to me. Now they're all inside Audrey's home.

I close the app. Then the hotel front desk calls.

"Mrs. Cole, Mr. Cole has extended your stay to fifteen days and upgraded you to an ocean view suite."

A staff member brings up a new room key and a breakfast order.

Warm milk. Plain oatmeal. Delivered to the room at ten every morning.

All my habits. Every single one.

Ethan's messages come in right after.

"You always wanted to go to Miami, right? Stay a few extra days since you're already there."

"Don't sleep till the afternoon and skip meals again. Your stomach can't handle it."

"I'll come get you when I'm back from my business trip in fifteen days."

Three years of marriage and he still remembers all of that.

I stare at the breakfast card. Then my bank sends a notification.

Joint travel fund withdrawal: $12,600.

We opened that account six years ago.

I didn't make much back then, but I put two hundred dollars in every month.

Later, when Ethan started making real money, I wanted to close it. He said, "Keep it. I'll take you somewhere every year."

I open the transaction details.

The payment went to a travel agency.

Fifteen-day itinerary.

Four names listed together.

Ethan Cole. Audrey Marsh. Sophia Deane. Nicole Webb.

Departing the day after tomorrow for Los Angeles, then Las Vegas, then San Francisco.

So when he says he'll pick me up after his business trip, he means after he's done vacationing with the three of them.

I keep scrolling.

This is the exact trip Ethan and I planned together six years ago.

Back then he said wait till we have money.

Then he said wait till we get married.

After we got married, he said wait till we move into the new place.

Last month when we were packing, he put that travel notebook into his suitcase himself.

"Once we're settled in, we'll go."

Now every single stop on that trip is still there. But my name isn't on the list.

I send everything to my lawyer, then call the front desk to cancel the hotel extension.

"Whatever Mr. Cole arranged for me, don't send it up. Just cancel everything."

That afternoon, I get a job offer from a waterfront venue in Miami.

I reply right away. "I can start tomorrow."