Chapter 1Trying to save a few bucks, I took a rideshare again. Except this time? The driver was weird.
She pulled up in a Range Rover. Had a sign in the window: "FREE RIDES."
I wiped the sweat off my face. Slid into the back seat feeling like trash.
She saw me staring at the sign.
"Pregnancy's boring as hell. My husband bought this to keep me busy. Just cruising around. What's a few bucks when the car cost him over a hundred grand?"
I didn't say anything. What could I say?
We drove past the business district. She pulled over.
"Hang on. My husband made me lunch. Gotta grab it real quick."
I watched her walk toward this fancy office building.
Couldn't help thinking: What's that like? Having a husband who makes you lunch? Who buys you a car like it's nothing?
Then the doors opened.
Some guy in a suit walked out. Looked expensive. Holding a lunchbox.
He put his arm around her waist. Kissed her on the mouth.
I just stopped breathing.
That face. I knew that face.
That was MY husband. Garrett Sinclair.
The man I'd been married to for EIGHT fucking years.
The man who told me last night we couldn't afford new tires.
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I just stared. Couldn't think.
Kept staring at him, trying to find anything that said this wasn't Garrett.
But that blue tie? I tied it this morning.
I'd touched that face so many damn times. Kissed those lips.
That mole by his nose? Moved every time he smiled.
His eyes when he loved someone? Yeah. I knew that look.
This was him.
The guy I'd loved for eight years.
He leaned in close, whispering something in her ear. She giggled.
Then Garrett bent down.
Kissed her belly—barely showing yet—and rubbed it soft.
His wedding ring was gone. That cheap fake diamond I bought him.
Now he had a real one. A fat rock that caught the light like crazy.
Garrett turned his head.
I ducked. Didn't even think.
My hair was all sweaty, swung forward and smeared my shirt. Gross.
Cash fell outta my pocket. Three hundred bucks in some paper.
The paper was this list. Garrett's birthday shit.
Three thousand bucks worth of stuff. Got twenty-four hundred saved.
The car door hid me.
I looked down at my shoes. Bent over—my back hurt like hell—ripped up that list.
Crammed it back in my pocket.
If he didn't see me out here working at midnight, maybe I could feel like less of a loser.
Maybe pretend I didn't care about him so much.
The woman got back in.
We kept driving.
"My husband's all over me constantly. Everywhere we go. Sorry for the wait."
I said nothing.
"I'm Vivienne Langford. What's your name?" She glanced at me in the mirror.
"...Sloane."
I couldn't stop staring at her.
Long black hair. Super smooth. Some silk dress that probably cost more than my rent.
Had this huge jade thing around her neck. Her wrist? Covered in bracelets—the kind you get blessed or whatever.
But the ring. God, the ring.
First time I'd ever seen a diamond that big in real life.
Everything about her just screamed money.
Screamed somebody loved the hell outta her.
I looked at my hands. All cracked up. Dry as hell.
My throat got tight. Couldn't breathe right.
Car kept moving. Headed out toward the backroads.
"He treats you good, huh?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "Everything you see? He bought it."
"You guys actually married?"
"Yeah. Five years."
So who's he lying to? Me or her?
I grabbed my shirt. Knuckles went white.
Took forever to say it. "You know he's got someone else?"
Chapter 2
Vivienne slammed the brakes.
She whipped around. Looked me up and down. Then laughed.
Sharp and mean.
Her eyes went cold. Like she felt sorry for me.
"Nice try, Sloane. Real cute you got in my car. But this little game? Won't work on me."
"Garrett wouldn't even look at you."
"Get out."
The Range Rover took off.
I sat down on the side of the road. No cars. Nobody. Nothing.
Finally let myself cry.
Bit my lip. Didn't help. Couldn't stop.
I walked home crying the whole way.
Got tired. Pulled out my phone. Called Garrett.
He always said don't text. Don't call. Too busy.
I called anyway. Again and again.
Eighth time, ringing stopped. Robot voice came on.
He either hung up or blocked me.
I texted him:
[Come home before midnight or we're done.]
Back in our shitty little apartment, I sat on the couch. Both marriage certificates in my lap.
Garrett got home quick.
"You know someone named Vivienne Langford?"
He froze.
I stood up. Threw the certificates at his face.
"I sat in her car today. She said she's your wife."
I walked right up to him. Eyes all red and puffy.
"So what am I?"
"Garrett. Who the HELL am I?!"
He picked up the certificates. Brushed them off. Said nothing. Just stared at them forever.
Then looked at me.
"Papers are fake. But I love you. That's real."
"Just forget this happened. Whatever Vivienne's got, I'll get you the same. All of it."
My ears started ringing.
I swayed. Grabbed the wall so I wouldn't fall.
Garrett said. "Yeah, you stuck around when I had nothing. I know you did."
"But Sloane. I need Vivienne."
"Didn't tell you because..."
He sighed.
"I was scared you'd leave."
What a load of shit.
I shook my head. Stumbled back. Didn't even know who he was anymore.
If he could lie about love—about something that's supposed to be real—what else did he lie about?
Eight years.
He watched me give him everything. Watched me stay in the dark like a total idiot.
Did he feel guilty? Even once?
He saw me running around every day. So sick I couldn't pay for a doctor.
Did he feel bad?
I'm thirty-five. Still stuck in this shitty moldy apartment. No house. No car.
Every dollar I saved? Gave it to him. His "business."
While he was out having the time of his life with Vivienne—did he regret it? Even for a second?
"Garrett. I'm a person."
"I'm not your fucking toy."
I went at him. Slapped him hard.
His head whipped to the side.
I grabbed his phone. Started looking for Vivienne's number.
"Sloane, stop."
He tried grabbing it back.
"I've been working all day. I'm tired. Just—give me a break."
"Come on. Hand it over."
I held on tighter. Hit Vivienne's name.
Garrett's face changed.
Grabbed my wrist. Hard. I screamed.
Blood. Phone. Both got ripped outta my hand.
CRASH.
Garrett smashed it. Phone in pieces everywhere.
I lost it. Started hitting him. Crying.
"Why'd you lie to me?!"
"Thirteen years! You piece of shit!"
Garrett lost it too.
Shoved me back on the couch. Pulled out a wad of cash. Threw it right in my face.
Bills hit me. Fell all over me.
Felt like being buried alive.
"All you do is throw tantrums!"
"Sloane, you're a fucking mess. You barely got through middle school. What made you think I'd marry you?"
I couldn't say shit.
Just stared. Tears pouring down my face.
"Here. Take the cash."
"Tomorrow you're getting a credit card. Want something? Buy it. I don't give a fuck."
Garrett tossed his phone in the trash.
"Just stay away from my family."
"Tonight never happened."
He brushed the glass off his hands. Walked out.
Door slammed.
Left me sitting there in all that mess.
Chapter 3
I just lay there.
Money was right there. All I had to do was grab it.
Two months of saving. Gone.
Garrett didn't even blink. Just tossed it around like trash.
Made me feel like I was nothing.
Like dirt.
Ceiling wouldn't stop spinning. His voice kept playing in my head.
I started thinking about before. When it was just us.
This same apartment.
Garrett did sales during the day. Nighttime took clients out.
He went to Cambridge.
I grew up nowhere. Dad made me quit school.
I knew I wasn't smart. Didn't go to school much.
Couldn't help him with work stuff. So when we went out, I drank instead of him.
Thought maybe if I did that, I wouldn't feel like such a loser.
Ended up in the hospital more than once. Worst one, my stomach got messed up bad.
First time I ever saw him cry.
He held on to me like a kid. Face in my chest. Wouldn't let go.
"Don't do this for me. Sloane, just stay. That's what I need."
"I'll give you a good life. I swear."
After that, he still took me to stuff. But different rules.
"No drinking."
"Whatever I do, you watch. Okay?"
He tapped my head.
"Stop zoning out. Pay attention."
He taught me how to talk to people.
How to deal.
How to not look stupid. Pushed me till I got a deal done by myself.
Five years of that.
He wanted me to grow up. Get tough. Take care of myself.
Then we got married.
Everyone said I was dumb.
"Garrett's a loser. Five years and he's got nothing!"
"Sloane, don't throw your life away on him."
I just said, "I believe in him."
After that, Garrett got busy. Real busy. Barely came home.
Probably three years after we got married.
That's when he made it. That's when he married Vivienne for real.
He stopped taking me anywhere.
Just kept saying he was stressed. Needed money.
So I went back to work. Delivered food. Worked kitchens. Whatever paid.
Got home late. So late I'd just pass out.
Didn't even know if he came home.
Our texts? Just me sending money.
[Don't work too hard. I got you.]
Life kicked my ass.
I crawled back into my shell. Got slow. Weak. Started giving up.
They were right. I was dumb.
When I loved him most, I fell for a fake marriage. Gave him everything.
Looked around the apartment.
Walls peeling. Floors all messed up. And him—totally different now.
Those days when I felt strong? Gone.
He broke me. Did it himself.
He didn't want me anymore.
Time to go.
