Chapter 1
The day Grace had a miscarriage, her husband, Edward, was with another woman while she gave birth.
Grace lay on the operating table, signing the papers herself, losing both of her babies.
Three days later, Edward announced online, [Yes, we have a child.]
Grace sent him the signed divorce agreement. He called and asked, "Grace, are you crazy?"
She knew she wasn't crazy.
It took her three years to understand one thing.
He wasn't the light of her life. He was only up on a pedestal.
She'd been looking up at him so long that she forgot she could shine, too.
Later, a man asked her by the sea, "What are you thinking about?"
She said, "An essay I wrote when I was sixteen, about fish in the deep sea that light up on their own."
He smiled. "Once you've found the light, you shouldn't cry anymore."
*****
Grace Nolan woke up in pain, the kind she'd ever felt before.
It was as if someone were twisting a knife in her gut, over and over.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she could barely punch in the number. It was two in the morning, and she was alone in the three-thousand-square-foot house.
The phone rang forever before anyone answered.
"Hello?" Edward Foster, her husband, said on the other end.
It was loud in the background. People were talking. Machines were beeping. And then there was a woman's voice, soft and sweet.
"Edward, hurry up. The baby's kicking me," the woman said.
Edward's voice was gentle, a tone he'd never used with Grace. "I'm coming."
Then the line went dead.
Grace gripped her phone and stared at the screen. The call had lasted only twenty-three seconds.
She wanted to try again, but her finger hovered over the screen and wouldn't press down.
There was no point. He'd heard her. He knew she wasn't okay, yet chose the other woman instead.
Grace struggled to get out of bed and call a cab. But the second her feet touched the floor, everything went black. She passed out.
When she came to, she was in the hospital.
The fluorescent lights were blinding. Voices drifted in from far away, muffled, like they were underwater.
"Where's her family?"
"Can't reach them. Their phone's off."
"Then who's going to sign the papers?"
"Guess she'll have to sign them herself."
Grace lay there, listening. She almost laughed.
Later, she learned what had really happened that night. Edward had been with Olivia Lane while she was going into labor. Olivia was the woman he'd kept by his side for three years.
Everyone in their social circle knew about her, but they'd never dared to say it to Grace's face.
Grace also learned she'd had a miscarriage after two months of being pregnant.
She'd been carrying two babies, yet ended up losing both.
When she came out of the operating room, the nurse said softly, "You're still young. You'll have other chances."
Grace didn't cry.
Three days later, she left the hospital.
Her phone lit up with a news alert.
The title read, [Foster Group CEO Edward Foster Finally Admits His Relationship: Yes, We Have a Child.]
The photo showed a family of three. Edward was cradling the baby. Olivia was leaning against his shoulder, both of them beaming.
There were over a hundred thousand likes.
The comments were full of people saying things such as [So sweet.], [Finally official!], and [Mrs. Foster is gorgeous.].
Grace stared at that news for a long time.
She couldn't look away from the comment saying that Mrs. Foster was gorgeous.
She scrolled down and saw a comment that had risen to the top: [So what happened to his real wife?]
She stopped reading.
She shut off the app, opened her contacts, and scrolled all the way to the bottom.
She hadn't said a word in the high school group chat for three years.
A few days earlier, someone had asked: [Sunstone High School's anniversary. Anyone going?]
She tapped on that person's profile picture.
The picture was a cup of coffee. The name was one word: George.
She stared at that name for a long time.
She barely knew him. In those years of high school, they'd probably exchanged fewer than ten sentences. All she remembered was that he was from the class next door, a little chubby, and always reading in the corner of the library.
But she did remember one thing.
In her senior year, she was painting in the library and accidentally knocked over her paint. It ruined her assignment, and she was devastated. The chubby boy next to her noticed. He didn't say anything. He slid his sheet of drawing paper over to her.
She blinked. "Thanks," she said.
He shrugged. "No problem. I brought an extra."
Later, she found out that it was his only spare. He'd given it to her, so he had nothing left for himself.
That must have been him.
Grace stared at his profile picture, her finger hovering over the screen.
Then she closed the group chat and opened the airline app.
She bought a ticket to Sunstone for tomorrow.
After that, she checked the time. It was three in the morning.
She lay down and closed her eyes.
Then, her phone buzzed.
It was a WhatsApp message from Edward.
Edward: [See the news? It's a PR thing. Don't overthink it.]
She stared at those words and didn't reply.
She opened the airline app again and changed her flight to six that morning.