Chapter 1

When my mom was in the hospital, my sister-in-law, Haylee Frost, showed up with three rotten bananas.

My husband, Eddie Frost, just shrugged and said, "We're family. It's the thought that counts."

Half a year later, Eddie's mother, Emma Frost, got sick.

I bought exactly four bananas, not one more, not one less.

When I set the bananas down by Emma's bedside, the whole room went dead silent.

Eddie snatched the bananas and shoved them in my face, his eyes red with anger. "What's that supposed to mean?" he shouted.

*****

The sticky banana pulp mixed with my tears, smearing across my face and making it hard to see.

The world was a blur, and all I could hear was Eddie's heavy breathing and Emma's exaggerated gasps, like she'd rehearsed them a hundred times.

"Oh, my heart! Are you trying to kill me? I'm not even recovered yet, and you want me dead? What did I ever do to deserve this?" Emma cried out theatrically.

She clutched her chest, shaking dramatically on the hospital bed, but out of the corner of her eye, she was watching me closely, waiting to see how I'd react.

Haylee's scream broke the silence in the hospital corridor.

"Cora, you vicious bitch! My mom's already sick, and you're still pulling these cheap stunts to mess with her. Do you even have a heart?" Haylee yelled.

She sounded like I'd trespassed on her turf, treating me less like a person and more like something stupid enough to go up against her family's pride.

I paid no attention to their mother-daughter routine, the way they always put on a show together.

Over the past three years, I'd watched this same performance too many times, and I was completely desensitized.

With a strange calm that felt foreign even to me, I reached into my bag for some tissues.

Bit by bit, I slowly wiped the banana pulp from my face, almost like it was some kind of ritual.

I moved so gently, like I was dusting off a priceless work of art, not cleaning off the insult they'd just smeared on me.

Everyone in the room was staring at me, probably waiting for me to break down, go full drama queen, or maybe even throw hands.

Eddie thought the same. His chest was still heaving, leftover rage from what he'd just done all over his face, but his eyes already had that tired, ready-to-shut-me-up look.

He already had his excuses lined up. "My mom's still sick, so quit the drama," or "I didn't mean it. I just lost it."

But I just tossed the dirty tissues in the trash, looked up, and locked eyes with him.

My eyes were bone dry, not a single tear in sight.

I stared right at him, making sure he heard every word. "What did I mean?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp as an ice pick, cutting straight through the stifling, phony atmosphere in the room.

I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm just following your lead, Eddie.

"You said it's the thought that counts."

I held up four fingers and waved them right in front of his face.

I sneered, "I even brought one more than your sister did. What, that's not good enough for you now?"

Eddie's face went from furious red to the ashen shade of someone caught out, then finally turned ghostly pale.

He opened his mouth, but my words stuck in his throat. He was totally at a loss for words.

"How... how is that the same?" he finally spat out through clenched teeth, his logic making zero sense but still sounding so damn sure of himself. "She's my sister. You're just my wife!"

"Exactly," I said, my laugh barely a whisper, but it made Eddie jolt.

I added, "So, because she's your precious little sister, her mom gets all the care, but mine doesn't even matter?

"Her three rotten bananas are some kind of precious 'gesture,' but my four fresh ones are just me being 'vicious'?

"Eddie, does your family's so-called 'thoughtfulness' just depend on who's giving?"

Every question I asked was like a nail, nailing him to his own cross of guilt.

The other patients and their families, who'd been watching for entertainment, started shooting them knowing glances and gossiping under their breath, pointing at the Frost family.

Eddie looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up.

I didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. I pulled out my phone and started recording, making sure everyone saw it as the red light came on.

My voice was even steadier than before as I repeated every word I'd just said.

Then I aimed the phone screen right at him, my tone cold as ice. "Eddie, I'll remember the sound of that slap for the rest of my life. And believe me, the law will remember it, too."

Emma's fake heart attack disappeared in an instant. She sprang off the bed like an angry lioness, roaring and making a grab for my phone.

"You've got some nerve! Recording us, huh? Hand over the phone!" she shouted.

Haylee came charging in right after her, hands out like she was about to scratch my eyes out.

I just stepped back cool as ice, and they both lunged at thin air.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and took one last look at the man I used to love. He just stood there, looking like a lost puppet, shock and panic written all over his face.

"I'm moving out tonight," I said, my voice steady and cold. "We're done. We're living apart from now on."

With that, I turned and walked away, not a single ounce of regret in my heart.

The sharp click of my heels echoed through the hallway, each step a declaration of my resolve.

I left their stunned faces and hushed whispers locked behind that door, out of my life for good.