Chapter 1

In the "working late" selfie Daniel sent me, a woman's bare feet rested on his lap, reflected on the glass desk with blood-red toenails.

A second later, his text popped up:

[Meeting just wrapped up. Crashing at the office tonight. Happy anniversary.]

Not even a simple "sorry."

I stared at the screen, my fingers tightening around my champagne flute.

Across the table, his chair had been empty for four hours. My steak had gone stone-cold under a film of congealed white grease.

All around me, couples clinked glasses under low candlelight. I was the only joke in the room.

For the seventh time, the waiter approached with the check, visibly uncomfortable.

"Mrs. Stone, I'm so sorry... but we're closing."

"Of course. Thank you for your patience."

No tears. No scene. A public breakdown was a luxury I couldn't afford.

I handed over my black card and signed the receipt with a steady hand.

As I buckled my trench coat, the heavy brass doors swung open. Claire rushed in on four-inch heels, breathless, clutching a new-season designer bag.

"Irene! Oh my god, you're actually still here waiting for him?!"

My college best friend. Daniel's sister.

She dropped into the seat across from me, grabbing my freezing hands with theatrical outrage.

"Daniel is an absolute bastard! I just ripped into him on the phone! Who leaves his wife alone on their anniversary?!"

Her eyes brimmed with tears, looking genuinely heartbroken on my behalf.

Then, right on cue, the spin:

"But Irene, that cross-border merger is killing him. He hasn't slept in a week. The board is breathing down his neck... he carries the whole family on his shoulders."

I looked at her perfectly contoured face. A faint, razor-thin smile touched my lips.

"I know. He's always busy."

"I knew you'd understand!"

Claire let out a sigh of relief, unzipped her bag, and slid a navy velvet box across the white tablecloth.

"Ta-da! Look what I've got!"

I looked down at the box. "What's this?"

"A surprise from Daniel! He couldn't get away, but his heart is right here. He custom-ordered this weeks ago, meant to put it on you tonight. He felt so guilty, he begged me to rush it over before closing."

"Ordered weeks ago?" I asked.

"A one-of-a-kind piece! Go on, open it!"

I flipped the gold clasp. Snap.

A platinum diamond necklace rested on the black velvet, cradling a rare deep-sea sapphire. Cold, brilliant, and blinding.

Claire reached over eagerly. "Let me put it on you -- "

"Wait." I leaned back, slipping past her reach.

"What's wrong? Don't like it?"

"I love it."

My thumb grazed the back of the pendant. Five words in cursive:

[To my eternal light.]

Touching. Except my nail caught on the edge of the velvet cushion.

A corner of translucent paper peeked from the seam.

While Claire checked her lipstick in a compact mirror, I slid the folded slip free.

A boutique receipt.

[Tonight, 10:45 PM]

[The St. Giles Hotel, Lobby Boutique]

It was 11:20 PM.

Thirty minutes ago, while my candles burned out, my "overworked" husband was walking through a five-star hotel lobby with another woman, casually picking out a bauble to shut me up.

I slipped the receipt into the hidden inner pocket of my coat. Crisp, cold paper against my ribs.

I looked up and smiled. "Claire?"

"Yeah, babe?" She snapped her compact shut.

"Daniel's definitely still locked in the executive boardroom, right?"

"Still on video with the overseas team," she said without missing a beat. "Probably won't even get the couch tonight."

I touched my bare neck, laughing softly. "I see. Why don't we drop by his office with some late-night takeout?"