Chapter 1

I went to the airport to pick up my husband, David Carter, who was returning from a business trip.

But instead of the warm reunion I'd imagined, I saw him locked in a deep kiss with a young woman.

The woman nestled shyly in his arms, and he gently brushed the wind-tousled strands of hair from her face.

That natural intimacy, the kind of tenderness he hadn't shown me in years, was now reserved for someone else.

I never thought that in ten years, a kid could turn into such a gorgeous woman.

And a man's love could slip away so quietly that I wouldn't even notice.

I stood there, watching the scene unfold, not moving a muscle.

Without saying a word, I quietly left the airport.

From that moment on, I decided to let them be.

But David had no idea that the price of my blessing was losing me forever.

*****

By the time David's voice called out behind me, I was already in the parking lot.

The October wind was biting, stinging my face like a knife.

My hand trembled around the car keys. I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from what I'd seen.

"Claire, wait up," David called out.

He hurried over, reaching for the coffee in my hand like he always did.

I sidestepped him, pulling away.

David looked surprised for a second, then smiled. "What's wrong? Who's got my Claire in a bad mood?"

"My Claire." He hadn't called me that in ages. The last time I heard it was probably three years ago.

"I'm tired. I just want to go home," I said, opening the car door and sliding into the driver's seat.

David walked around to the passenger side, buckling his seatbelt as he spoke. "This business trip was exhausting.

"I had to deal with clients and business dinners every night until midnight. Oh, and Mom said she's coming over for dinner tonight, so don't forget to grab some extra groceries."

I didn't respond, just kept my eyes on the road.

In the rearview mirror, I could see the airport exit.

Emily was walking out, dragging her pink suitcase, her head down with a sweet smile on her lips as she looked at her phone.

I'd helped her pick out that suitcase last month. She said pink made her look younger.

"By the way, is Emily back too?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

David's phone buzzed, and he glanced down. "Yeah, I think so. Didn't she say she was starting her internship? Oh, it's her. She just texted me, says she's already home."

Already home? But I'd literally seen her walking out of the airport.

My heart clenched like someone had grabbed it in a fist. So they were already lying to my face without even blinking.

When we got home, David went straight into the bathroom.

I sat on the living room couch, staring blankly at the wedding photo on the coffee table.

In the picture, I was grinning happily, nestled in his arms, my eyes sparkling with joy.

Back then, I was twenty-five, and he was thirty. He said he'd give me the happiest home ever.

My phone buzzed. It was a post from Emily on her social media.

It was a perfectly edited selfie, captioned: [Back home! The thing I missed most was Aunt Claire's cooking.]

There were already a bunch of likes and comments.

My sister, Julia Shaw, had liked it right away: [Emily, you're getting prettier every day.]

My mom commented too: [Emily, why didn't you say you were back? Come over for dinner tonight.]

Looking at those comments, I couldn't help but feel the irony.

Emily was my sister's daughter. When she was five, my sister and her husband died in a car accident.

I'd just gotten married myself, and my heart ached for my little niece, so I brought her home to live with us.

And just like that, I ended up raising her for the next fourteen years.

From kindergarten all the way to high school, I was the one who showed up for every single parent-teacher conference.

When she got sick, I'd stay up with her all night, never leaving her side.

When she hit her rebellious teenage years, I was always there, patiently talking her through it.

When I found out she was dating someone, I sat her down and talked to her gently, like a real mom would.

I always thought that if I loved Emily like my own daughter, she'd see me as the person she trusted most.

But just now at the airport, seeing her curled up in David's arms, it hit me like a punch to the gut.

The way they acted, so natural and so close, it was obvious this wasn't the first time. Like they'd done it a hundred times before.

The bathroom door opened, and David came out wrapped in a towel. "Claire, can you grab me some clothes?"

I got up and headed to the closet, just grabbed some comfy clothes without thinking.

When I handed them over, I caught sight of some faint scratches on his arm. They were fresh, probably from earlier today.

"How'd you get those?" I asked.

He glanced down, totally unfazed. "Maybe I scratched myself moving some boxes or something."

Moving boxes?

Then I remembered Emily's fresh manicure, soft pink nails with tiny diamond studs.

She called it her "heartbreaker shade."

David's mother, Delilah, showed up in the evening, her arms loaded with bags of groceries.

She said, "David said he'd be back today, so I bought all his favorite foods."

She walked in and started bustling around the kitchen, didn't even bother to ask if I was tired.

That was how she was; her son always came first in her eyes.

I was going through the motions, washing and chopping veggies, but my mind was stuck on what I'd seen at the airport.

"Claire, Emily's back, right? Tell her to come over for dinner tonight. She's really grown up since starting college. She's getting prettier by the day," Delilah said, still busy with the veggies.

My hands froze. Even Delilah knew Emily was back.

"She just got home. She probably wants to rest," I said, keeping my tone flat.

Delilah answered, "Oh, come on, we're all family. What's there to rest for?

"I think Emily's a great kid, so well-behaved and thoughtful, not like those girls these days who just want to have fun all the time."

She shot me a meaningful look. "Look at you, already thirty-five and you don't even bother to take care of yourself. Women really should pay more attention to their appearance."

I glanced down at myself, bare-faced, wearing slouchy home clothes.

No wonder I couldn't compete with a nineteen-year-old's energy.

All these years, I'd poured everything into my family.

I quit my job at the investment bank just to be there for everyone.

I gave up buying fancy stuff so I could pay for Emily's tuition.

I thought that was what love and responsibility looked like. But to everyone else, it made me look like I'd let myself go.