Chapter 1

When I pushed open the door to the private room, Vivian Shaw was standing in front of my husband, Andrew Reed, fixing his tie.

She was wearing the champagne-colored dress I'd bought last week, sitting in my seat, with the cake I'd ordered for our third wedding anniversary sitting right next to her.

Andrew's mother, Margaret Reed, was waving at the waiter, signaling him to take the cake away. "Don't put it out yet. Vivian just got back tonight. Andrew needs to take care of her feelings first."

My hand froze in mid-air, holding the cake box, and it felt like I'd missed a step on the stairs.

Andrew looked up and saw me, his expression faltering for a moment, like he hadn't expected me to show up so early.

Vivian turned around and gave me a smile. "Tanya, don't get the wrong idea. My dress zipper broke, and Andrew was helping me out."

As she spoke, her hand was still resting on Andrew's sleeve, her fingertips not moving an inch.

I stared at the dress on her and asked, "So, was lending her this dress another helpful gesture?"

The room suddenly fell silent.

Margaret frowned. "It's a dress. It's no big deal. Vivian wasn't prepared tonight, so what's the harm in letting her borrow yours? Tanya, don't start any drama today."

Today was my third wedding anniversary with Andrew.

It was also the day of the company's celebration party, after I'd pulled three all-nighters to secure Riverpoint Health's overseas partnership.

But now, the words scrolling across the big screen were not "Happy Third Anniversary" but "Welcome Back, Miss Shaw".

I stood at the door, feeling like an outsider who'd walked into the wrong room.

*****

Andrew walked over and reached out, trying to take the cake from my hands. "Come inside first. Let me explain in a minute."

I didn't let go. "Explain what, Andrew? Why is she wearing my dress, sitting in my seat, or why did you turn our anniversary into her welcome party?"

Margaret's face darkened. "What's with that attitude?"

I locked eyes with Andrew. "I'm talking to you."

He looked at me for a couple of seconds, his voice flat. "Vivian got back, and she's not doing so well. All the partners are here tonight, and she needs everything to go smoothly. Tanya, let's focus on what matters right now."

I had spent three years with Andrew, and I had heard those words more times than I could count.

For the sake of what mattered, I took the blame for him, pulled all-nighters, kept my head down in board meetings, and put off my mom's surgery because his dad was hospitalized.

But I never imagined that one day, the excuse he kept preaching would end up stomping all over me.

Vivian's eyes were red as she spoke softly, "It's my fault. Should I leave?"

But as she said that, she stayed right where she was.

Margaret immediately held her back. "There's no need for you to leave. You're our guest."

Then she turned to me, her tone like she was giving orders to a moody employee. "Tanya, give up your seat. Vivian will sit by Andrew tonight. You go sit with the others over there."

I couldn't help but laugh.

So it was never about borrowing after all.

It was about handing it over.

I put the cake down on the table, the lid popped open, and the cream smeared across the tablecloth like the punchline to a pathetic joke.

"Give it up?" I nodded. "Fine."

I pulled my wedding ring out of my bag and set it right in the middle of the cake. "I'm giving up my seat and my husband, too. Andrew, I don't want you anymore."

The moment those words left my mouth, everyone in the private room turned to stare at me in unison.

Andrew's expression finally shifted. "Tanya..."

"Don't call me." I lifted my hand, cutting him off.

My voice wasn't loud, but every word hit home. "You've always told me to be sensible, right? Well, today I finally got it. What's the point of keeping a man who can turn our anniversary into a welcome party for his first crush?"

Vivian's eyes grew redder, like she was the one who'd been wronged. "Tanya, I swear, that's not what I meant."

"Then take it off, right now." I stared at the dress she was wearing, enunciating every word. "Take off my dress and give it back to me."

Vivian froze.

Margaret snapped, "Tanya, have you lost your mind?"

"I'm not crazy." I curled my lips. "I realized I don't have to take this anymore."

Andrew took a step closer, his eyes practically blazing. "We'll talk about this when we get home."

"Home? Which one?" I cocked my head at him. "Yours or the one she moved back into?"

He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool.

Every time he looked like this before, I'd always be the one to back down first.

Because I knew, once he got mad, he was impossible to calm down.

But today, I couldn't be bothered to try.

I turned and walked away.

Behind me, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor echoed as Andrew rushed out after me.

Right by the elevator, he caught my wrist in one swift motion. "Are you done making a scene?"

I looked at him, and suddenly, it was like I barely knew him anymore. "I'm the one making a scene?"

"Vivian got back today. Her dad's in trouble, she's a mess, and the partnership depends on her. I have to make sure she's okay. Did you really have to pick today to blow up?" he said.

"And what about me?" I asked. "Andrew, who's supposed to care about how I feel?"

He swallowed hard, but didn't say a word.

I smiled and pulled my hand away. "It's fine. I can stand steady on my own."

"Are you coming home tonight?" said Andrew.

"Yes." I nodded. "I'm going back to pack up my things."

Andrew frowned. "Tanya, don't give me that look."

I pressed the elevator button, my voice so soft it sounded like I was talking about someone else's life. "You always thought I couldn't live without you, right? Well, starting today, let's see if you can handle it."

As the elevator doors slid shut, I saw him standing outside, his brows furrowed tight.

But right then, I didn't feel a shred of reluctance.

One thought kept echoing in my mind.

I didn't want my husband anymore.

Seriously, I was done.

*****

When I got back to Silverlake Estates, there was a new pair of women's heels in the entryway.

They were off-white, size 6.5.

They weren't mine.

I paused for a moment, feeling a pang in my chest, but walked inside.

In the living room, Vivian was wrapped in a blanket on the couch, with water and medicine set out in front of her. Margaret sat right beside her, her gaze so tender that one would think she was looking at her daughter.

Andrew was over by the dining cabinet, pouring water for her.

The moment the door opened, all three heads turned my way.

Margaret was the first to speak. "You're back in time. Vivian will be staying here for a bit."

I let out a laugh, so angry that I couldn't help myself. "She's staying here?"

"She's a girl, and her dad's in debt. It's not safe for her out there. Andrew's got plenty of rooms here. What's the big deal if she stays for a few days?" Margaret said.

I turned to Andrew. "So you're okay with this?"

He set the water down and walked over. "It's temporary."

"How long is 'temporary' supposed to be?"

"A month."

"A month?" I nodded. "Perfect. You bring your first crush into our home and can say it with a straight face that it's temporary. Andrew, you really know how to play the game."

Vivian jumped to her feet. "Tanya, don't blame Andrew. It was Margaret who asked him for help. I really didn't want to come here."

I looked at her, and suddenly realized she was holding the cup I always use.

That white porcelain cup, with a tiny character for my name on the bottom, was my favorite from the last batch of porcelain my mom fired for me before she passed away.

I walked over and took the cup back from her.

"Miss Shaw, first, don't call me Tanya. We're not that close. Second, this is my house. Who I blame is none of your business, and you don't get to comment," I said.

Vivian's face went pale.

Margaret said sharply, "Tanya, what's with your attitude?"

I put the cup back in its place without looking back. "I'm following your rules.

"When you're a guest, there should be boundaries. Leave the lady of the house's cup alone."

The tension in the room was thick.

Andrew glanced at me, his expression clouded with mixed feelings.

I ignored him and went straight upstairs.

The walk-in closet door was wide open in the bedroom.

The section that used to be empty now had clothes hanging up. None of them was mine.

As I got closer, I spotted a dress I'd bought last month, tags still attached.

I stood there for a few seconds, took a photo with my phone, and sent it to my lawyer friend, Charles Grant. [Help me draft a divorce agreement. I need it tonight.]