Chapter 1

We were out riding on our trip, and the girl traveling with me and I both went down off our horses.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at the raw gashes on our legs and shook his head.

"These need stitches. There may be scarring."

My heart sank and I said nothing. But the girl suddenly burst into tears.

"No! I'm terrified of needles, I want my husband here!"

At that I lowered my head and looked at the dead-silent chat window on my phone. Something ached at the very tip of my heart, lodged there like a bone in my throat.

"Cliff, I fell off the horse. I'm pretty scared. Can you come?"

His answer was cold and put-upon.

"You're the one who wanted to take this trip. If something goes wrong, you should learn to handle it yourself."

"Work is busy. I don't have time to indulge you feeling sorry for yourself. Vanessa Henson, can you please try to understand the pressures I'm under?"

Eight years together, and Clifford always had an endless supply of pressures to point to.

Swapped his day off for overtime, and forgot to pick me up in a downpour.

Left on a last-minute business trip, and forgot I had a high fever and needed to get to a hospital.

I resented it, I blamed him for it, and he always explained: "I have my own life and my own career. The world can't revolve around you alone. Can you please understand the pressures of my work?"

So I was always understanding his pressures.

I used to think I could go on understanding forever. Right up until this moment.

He came rushing in, travel-worn, and pulled the crying girl hard into his arms, murmuring to calm her.

The man who'd just been pouring out all his hardships to me now stood clinging to someone else.

In that moment, I understood all at once. His hardships had run out long ago. Just not for me.

So for the rest of our lives — let this be where we end it.

……

1.

My eyes went dull. I watched the two of them holding each other, and my heart felt like a huge hand had closed around it and squeezed the breath out.

Clifford let her go, bent down, and examined her injury carefully, brow drawn tight.

"Penny, I'm going to sue the tour company for negligent safety measures. I failed to protect you."

For an instant the girl broke into a smile, her tone petulant and spoiled.

"Lucky for me my husband is the best trial lawyer in Harborview! Otherwise there'd be no one to fight for me when I get hurt!"

Her words dropped straight into me, and my heart gave a violent shudder.

"Cliff! Why can't you help me file the case? You know that man was driving drunk, that's why my mother is dead!"

Back then he stood in front of me and calmly put the file back into my hands, untouched.

"Nessa, first, we need to avoid any conflict of interest, or it damages my reputation for fairness. Second, retaining me means booking a month in advance."

I dug my nails hard into my palms. It hurt, but not by a fraction of what was happening inside me.

So your world does make exceptions after all. Just never for me.

The girl got up, limping, and hooked her arm through mine, turning to him.

"Cliff, Nessa's hurt too. Help her file a case as well. She took care of me this whole trip!"

At that, the man lifted his eyes and met mine, and his words cut off short: "You really shouldn't leave yourself so unguarded with strangers…"

In the silent room, we looked at each other. There was no love in it, only his hesitation and his flinching away.

"Nessa, this is my husband, Clifford Sanchez. Let me introduce you!"

The words caught in my throat, and I couldn't get them out.

Of course I knew him. He was my partner of eight years. And the girl he'd fallen for, I'd already come to know as well.

Penelope Swanson and I had met on this trip.

Innocent and carefree, blind to the world, she always laughed as she called out to me whenever something went wrong.

"Nessa! Disaster, total disaster, this dump of a guesthouse, the pipe in my room just burst!"

I'd give a helpless little laugh, bend down, and fix it for her, well-practiced. "You, you can't handle even the smallest thing. How do you manage day to day?"

She pouted, honestly puzzled. "My husband does all these little things for me. He says I don't need to know how, he'll take care of everything for me."

I looked at her, and something like envy stirred in me.

Back when we were first in love, Clifford used to take care of all my small daily troubles too. Later all that was left was that cold answer.

"I'm not a repairman. Am I supposed to drop a case to go fix your pipe? Can you not try to understand the pressures of my job?"

I looked at the two of them, so close, and gave a bitter laugh at myself.

My partner hadn't lost the ability to love. He just didn't love me anymore.

"No need. I'm going in for my stitches." I went around them and walked straight ahead.

The man's eyes settled on me again. His throat worked, but he said nothing.

The nurse said gently, "Miss Henson, the stitches are going to hurt. Don't you want to wait for your fiancé to be here with you?"

I shook my head, my voice calm.

"No. We've broken up. He won't be coming."

As the words left me, something moved in his eyes, and he seemed about to speak.

I passed right by him.

In the ER, the doctor stitched my wound. Every pass of the needle through my flesh drove into my heart too.

I clenched my hands, bit down on my lip, fine sweat beading across my forehead.

Then a figure stepped up beside me and held out an arm, saying softly, "Nessa, if it hurts, bite down on me."

At the sound my heart trembled.

"Silly Nessa, I told you not to ride that bike yourself. If it hurts, bite down on me!"

That downpour years ago, when I couldn't get a cab and rode a bike through the rain to make it back for his birthday, and ended up crashing and in the ER.

Back then he'd looked at me with so much tenderness it hurt. Now he was still standing in front of me, and that trace of love in his eyes was simply gone.

I spoke, calm and numb.

"No. Clifford, people change. I'm not afraid of the pain anymore. Go be with her."