Chapter 1

Two days before the wedding, I went to our apartment to pick up a few things.

I opened the door and found Ryan's ex-girlfriend, Chloe Evans, making the bed in our bedroom.

She wasn't surprised to see me. She only smiled and said, "Ryan told me I could stay here a few days."

I turned and looked at Ryan behind me.

He didn't explain anything. He said, "She just got back from overseas. She doesn't do well in hotels."

I asked, "Then where do I stay?"

He frowned. "We aren't married yet. Can't you go home for a few days?"

I looked at the two sets of pajamas laid out on the bed, and it struck me as funny.

Our wedding was in two days.

And my groom had already handed over our apartment to somebody else.

I turned around and went downstairs.

He wanted me to go home, so I did what he wanted.

If I weren't living there, there was no reason to get married either.

*****

I carried my bag down the stairs, and the wind outside hit me with the first real cold of fall.

I stood at the entrance of the complex and looked down at my phone.

The screen was going off with messages.

It was the wedding planning group chat we had been running for three solid months.

Chloe had posted six photos in a row.

The first was a selfie of her in loose silk pajamas, sitting on the window seat in our apartment.

Chloe: [Ryan's window seat cushion is so comfortable. Much cozier than a hotel.]

The second was our wedding portrait, the one we had picked up that week, hanging over the bed.

She had covered my face with a stuffed animal, so only Ryan's profile showed.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids in the chat started right in.

[Chloe's back? Ryan, this place looks great.]

[When did Chloe and Ryan take this couple shot? The mood in it is something.]

Chloe played along in the chat. [Stop it. I'm only here to help Ryan and Renee so the wedding doesn't come out tacky.]

Then Ryan sent seven hundred dollars to the group.

He wrote: [Chloe just got back. Look after her. Thanks for helping move her bags tonight.]

I read that line, and my fingers went cold.

Moving her bags.

So Chloe wasn't the only one going to our apartment that night. Their whole laughing circle of friends was going too.

The only person not going was the bride.

My phone buzzed with a private message from the wedding planner.

[Ms. Winters, have you settled the head table seating? Ms. Evans called and said she wants the seat next to Mr. Carter. She says he asked for it.]

I stood on the corner and pulled the Polaroid of Ryan and me at the beach out from behind my phone case.

It was taken three years earlier, on the day he proposed.

He held me with red eyes and swore, "Renee, for the rest of my life, the place beside me is yours and nobody else's."

I tore the photo in half and dropped it into the trash can at the curb.

Then I answered the planner with two words: [Let her.]

After that, I left the wedding group chat and turned off Ryan's notifications.

I flagged a cab and gave the driver the address of the small apartment I had rented before the engagement.

The driver looked at me in the mirror. "Miss, it's late. Why are your eyes so red? Fight with your boyfriend?"

"No." I leaned against the cold glass and answered quietly. "I only decided not to get married."

When I got to the apartment and pushed the door open, there was a thin layer of dust on everything.

The place used to be full of Ryan's things.

He thought it was too small, and two months earlier, he made me give it up and move into the new place. "Renee, we're going to have our own home. Throw all of this out."

But I couldn't do it, so I quietly paid another six months of rent.

I never expected that one soft spot to become the only place I had left.

I stepped out of my heels, went to the middle of the living room, rolled up my sleeves, and started packing.

I was pulling my life back out of his.

Every trace of Ryan was coming out by the roots.