Chapter 3

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I typed:

"But today is our anniversary. You promised you'd spend it with me this year."

I stared at the message for a long time, then deleted it, word by word.

That night, I went to our favorite Italian restaurant alone.

The hostess walked over and gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Table for one, Chloe? You always come alone on this date."

I forced a tight smile.

"Yes. The usual, please."

I barely touched the food. It felt like ash in my mouth.

I had the waiter pack up the leftovers, and for some stupid reason, I drove back to Carter's office building.

The lobby was empty.

The receptionist was walking out with her purse. She stopped when she saw me, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh, you're back. Is everything okay?"

I nodded, holding up the bag.

"Carter said he was working late. I brought him some dinner."

The receptionist's face went rigid. She cleared her throat.

"Uh, actually..."

"Mr. Miller left a couple of hours ago. He probably went to a business dinner. Don't worry too much."

I could see right through her lie. I bit my lip and smiled.

"Oh, I see. He must have forgotten to tell me. Thanks, have a good night."

The receptionist nodded quickly, grabbed her friend's arm, and hurried out.

As they walked away, I heard her friend whisper loudly,

"Is that really his wife?"

"Isn't Mr. Miller dating his assistant, Monica?"

"Yeah, I literally saw them get into his Tesla together after work!"

The words cut through the night air like glass. I clenched my fists and threw the takeout bag straight into the trash can.

When I got home, I heard Hailey on the balcony.

Her voice was sweet and gentle—a tone she never used with me.

"Happy birthday, Monica! I'll give you your present tomorrow."

"I was out with my friends today and almost forgot, luckily Dad reminded me."

"I ordered a cake for you. Your favorite flavor. I remembered you're allergic to strawberries, so I got the mango one."

"I'm rooting for you and Dad. Can't wait for you to be my new mom!"

"Anyway, I'll let you two enjoy your romantic night. Bye!"

A wave of dizziness hit me. Ever since Hailey grew up, I had never received a single birthday card from her.

She couldn't remember what I was allergic to, but she kept track of Monica's allergies.

She turned around and jumped when she saw me standing in the dark.

"Are you crazy? Why are you creeping around, eavesdropping on my calls?"

I didn't raise my voice. I just asked coldly,

"Is your father with her right now?"

She smirked and unlocked her phone, shoving it in my face.

"Yeah. Dad is throwing her a birthday party."

In the photo on Instagram, Monica was wearing that diamond ring, cuddled up in Carter's arms under the dim lights of a fancy lounge.

The caption read: "A gift from my favorite man. I'm absolutely obsessed."

I looked down and laughed at myself. I was such an idiot.

They were a match made in heaven, and I was just the annoying third wheel.

I snatched Hailey's phone, tapped the comment section under Monica’s post, and typed:

"What a beautiful couple. I hope you stay locked together forever!"

I took a screenshot of the post, sent it to my own phone, and threw Hailey’s phone back at her.

Hailey realized what I did and screamed,

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're just jealous because you're old!"

I slapped her across the face.

"Hailey, I've tolerated your disrespect for too long. Get out of my sight."

I walked into my bedroom, texted the screenshot to Carter, and added one last message:

"I don't want the things I have to beg for anymore. And that includes you."