Chapter 2

The baby out in the living room started wailing.

Dean had just come out of the kitchen, smiling, carrying that bowl of noodle soup.

He saw the scene, and the bowl slipped from his hands, broth splattering across the floor.

He froze for a second, then his brow furrowed.

"Althea, if you've got a problem, take it up with me. This has nothing to do with Imogen or the baby."

"Bailey was born with a congenital heart condition. Don't frighten her! Imogen's the only one who can take care of her. Open the door right now and let her in."

"Would you stop making a scene?"

Tears and snot ran down my face without stopping, and every breath dragged in a sour, choking sting.

Then I lifted the baby girl out of the stroller, threw the door open, stepped outside, and locked it fast behind me.

I shoved the baby into Imogen's arms.

She smiled and cooed at the child.

The look she gave me held mockery, and something smug too.

"I really don't see what's worth getting so angry about. We're best friends. Sharing one husband, isn't that perfectly normal?"

"You used to say it yourself. Once we were out in the world making money, you'd buy a place and the two of us would live together. Well, now the dream's come true."

"From now on my daughter can call you Mommy, all right?"

I pressed a hand hard against my chest, barely able to breathe.

"Imogen, how can you even say something this shameless?"

"You stole my husband. You're the other woman! And you say it like you've got every right to."

She let out a scoffing laugh.

"Now you're blaming me? All of this is your own fault!"

She threw our chat history at me.

"See for yourself. Who told you to share every little piece of your life with me, all day, every day?"

"You said your favorite chocolates were the ones from that boutique chocolatier. That you had to use rose-scented milk body wash in the shower, good for the skin."

"That on your days off, you loved hiking Pearl Ridge, that it was healthy, and that you loved the free-range roast chicken from the farmers up on the mountain."

"Everything you loved, you handed me a copy of it. But the truth is, I didn't care about any of that... What I was really interested in was the Dean you kept mentioning between the lines."

"You made him sound so wonderful. Made you hot ginger tea when you had your period, gave you massages. Coaxed you to sleep when it thundered, stayed by your side, kept watch all night without shutting his eyes. Drove across half the city in the middle of the night when you said you wanted a late-night snack, just to bring you the barbecue cookout from your favorite place. And most important of all, you said he would never, ever cheat."

"But I didn't believe that. What man doesn't like a taste on the side?"

So the day after our wedding, Imogen deliberately got him drunk and took him back to her place.

"He wasn't willing at first. But after that, every night, once you were asleep, he never let me go. Very skilled, too. I was quite satisfied. Sister, you really did eat well."

"If you don't believe me, just look at his phone and you'll know."

My chest felt like an invisible hand was clamped tight around it.

I had just raised my hand to slap her when a brute force shoved me aside.

I fell to the floor, my knee scraped open and bleeding.

Dean was holding Imogen tight, his face full of alarm.

"Imogen, are you okay?"

He turned his head toward me, and before he could get angry, he saw the wound on my knee.

"Althea, how could you be so careless? I'll get the first-aid kit, wait here a second."

He came back with iodine and gauze, meaning to bandage me up.

I wrenched my hand away from him.

And while he wasn't watching, I pulled the phone out of his pocket.