Chapter 3

I scoffed. She actually thought she was doing me a favor by "humoring" me. And that I was only mad about the money.

In her eyes, my mother's life was worthless, while Chase's was beyond price.

"Don't work yourself up," I replied evenly. "Just make sure Chase pays me back before we sign the divorce papers."

Silence fell over the line. Around the table, my friends went dead quiet too.

Zack slid a cigarette toward me, frowning. "Nathan... marriage is full of rough patches. You're just raw from losing your mom. Don't make a reckless decision you'll regret."

I inhaled deeply, letting out a bitter chuckle.

Reckless?

The time Serena abandoned me while I had a 104-degree fever just to celebrate Chase's birthday... the pair of shoes two sizes too small she bought me without a care... the signs had been there all along.

It took my mother's life to finally wake me up. How could I dare fall back asleep?

The next morning, I timed my return to when Serena should have been at work. To my surprise, she was still sitting on the couch.

Noticing my surprise, she ignored her obvious fatigue and offered a gentle smile. "Babe, I took the day off. I'm going to spend the whole day with you."

"No need," I said coldly. "I'm just here to grab a few things."

I had always loved traveling. My dream was to capture every corner of the world through my lens.

I once begged Serena to see the world with me, but she was always too busy—busy with shifts, and later, busy nursing a sick Chase.

"Babe, stop fighting with me, please. You know my work requires laser focus. If you keep picking fights, I might get distracted in the OR."

Me? Picking fights?

I didn't even have the energy to argue anymore. I headed straight for the bedroom.

Serena scrambled after me, pulling two photography exhibition passes from her pocket and holding them out like a peace offering. "Let's go together tonight. You've always loved these exhibits, right?"

A shock ran through me. I hadn't expected her to suggest this.

I had begged her countless times in the past, only for her to sneer:

"What's the point of looking at still pictures? They don't even move."

"I already have plans tonight. I'm busy."

Before Serena could lose her temper, her phone chimed loudly. An anxious woman's voice burst through the speaker:

"Serena, please come over! Chase won't take his meds unless you're here!"

Serena looked at me, torn. After a brief hesitation, she shoved the tickets into my hand. "Nathan, wait for me at home. I'll be right back, and then we'll go together!"

Watching her rush out the door, a wave of bitter irony washed over me—mocking her, and mocking my former self.

I stuffed the tickets carelessly into my pocket, grabbed my portfolio, and walked out.

Clara, my new photojournalist partner, was already waiting for me at the café.

Her hair was pulled back into a crisp high ponytail. Her sun-kissed skin from years in the field only accentuated her sharp, striking features.

"Nathan? It's an honor to partner with an award-winning master."

Clara handed me a flash drive. "Here's the project brief for our shoot in the East African savannah. Take your time looking it over."

Then a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. "The assignment is quite long, though. Is your wife okay with it?"

"She doesn't need to be," I answered calmly. "She won't have any say over my life soon."

Clara was smart. She didn't pry, simply raising her iced coffee in a toast to freedom.

A text from Serena buzzed on my phone:

"Babe, I'm so sorry. An emergency came up at the hospital. I can't make the exhibit tonight. I promise I'll go with you next time!"

A few minutes later, Chase updated his Instagram.

It was a photo of Serena leaning over his hospital bed, blowing on a spoonful of hot broth.

Caption: "Blessed to have you by my side."

I let out a quiet laugh, looked up at Clara, and said:

"I have two tickets to a photo exhibit tonight. Care to join?"