Chapter 2

My head was spinning. I opened Instagram, my hands trembling as I searched for the kid's handle.

His profile said: Lucas, 21, college junior.

His avatar was his own face—youthful, a little boyish, clean-cut. Exactly the type Rachel liked.

His latest post was a photo of them together.

Around Rachel’s neck was the custom pendant I had bought for her during our European honeymoon.

My chest tightened as I scrolled through his feed.

Almost every post was of the two of them.

Photos, videos, stories.

Rachel was sitting in his lap in a loose shirt, their faces pressed close together, smiling like newlyweds. Anyone looking at them would swear they were deeply in love.

His most recent caption read:

"My girl is staying in town to celebrate with me this year. Happy one-year anniversary, babe. Here’s to spending every single holiday by your side!"

The photo showed their intertwined hands.

Rachel’s diamond wedding band was long gone. In its place was a matching silver promise ring that paired with Lucas’s.

The last trace of denial in my heart vanished, instantly swallowed by white-hot rage.

I had always sympathized with her crazy hours at the law firm. Whenever she said she had to work late, I never doubted her for a second.

I felt so bad about her stress that I frequently Venmoed her extra cash, telling her to eat well and take an Uber instead of dealing with the subway.

And all this time, her "overtime" was spent in bed with another man.

All that money I sent had gone toward feeding her side piece and paying for their hotel rooms.

I felt like an idiot. Ten years of devotion, flushed down the toilet.

Lucas had been bragging about how perfect their relationship was before he left the shop. I had cut him off, telling him to finalize the pickup details with my assistant because I had to step out.

Deep down, I knew he might have been kept in the dark at first. But right now, I didn't give a damn about his feelings.

Those pictures felt like solid slaps across my face.

After sitting frozen in my shop for a while, I grabbed my car keys.

I needed to see it with my own eyes. I needed to crush every last hope I had left.

I pulled up across from her law firm. Staring at the familiar glass entrance, my chest felt heavy, like it was pinned under a boulder.

Ever since Rachel passed the bar and joined this firm, I had driven her to work every single day, rain or shine, for seven years.

When we first graduated, we had nothing. I scraped together every penny from my intern paycheck to buy a beat-up scooter.

Every morning, I rode that loud, sputtering thing through the freezing wind just to drop her off at the lobby.

Her colleagues were snobbish ladder-climbers. Seeing her get off a crappy scooter, they laughed behind her back.

I felt so humiliated that I offered to pay for her Ubers, but she grabbed my arm and stopped me.

"Who cares about a scooter? Even if you pushed me on a bicycle, I’d still be proud to show you off!"

We had laughed about it together.

Later, the moment my bakery turned a decent profit, I saved up and bought her a brand-new car for her birthday.

She cried in my arms for hours when I handed her the keys.

I truly thought that after everything we had survived together, nothing in the world could tear us apart.

Yet our unbreakable marriage had cracked wide open without me ever realizing it.

A few minutes later, an Uber pulled up to the curb.

Lucas hopped out holding my bakery's box. He pulled out his phone, made a quick call, and within five minutes, Rachel hurried out through the glass doors.

Her face lit up when she saw the cake. She threw her arms around Lucas's neck, giggling and acting like a lovesick teenager.

Lucas wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

They whispered to each other, totally lost in their own world.

I looked at Rachel's outfit. She was wearing an elegant wool coat and a cashmere scarf I had never seen before. She had spent time getting ready.

Thinking back to that phone call, the last piece clicked into place.

She had never planned to visit my parents. She had planned this New Year's getaway with Lucas weeks ago.

That sudden "emergency case" was just a cheap cover story.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom asking what time Rachel and I would arrive.

I closed my eyes, forcing down the acid rising in my throat.

Don't wait up. She isn't coming.

And she was never coming back again.