Chapter 2

I retreated to my craft room, the one space in our house that still felt like mine. The door clicked shut behind me, a small barrier between me and the man who no longer looked at me with love in his eyes.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the stack of colorful squares I'd bought years ago. Origami paper—something I'd once used to create delicate cranes and flowers during happier times.

"You promised," I whispered to the empty room, remembering our wedding day three years ago.

Damian had stood before me, his eyes bright with tears as he folded the first origami star. "Every time I hurt you," he'd said, "I'll fold one of these. And when we reach one hundred..."

"When we reach one hundred," I continued, my voice catching, "you'll set me free."

I'd thought it was romantic then. A symbolic gesture of his commitment to our marriage. Now I understood it was just another pretty lie.

I picked up a square of blue paper—the color of the dress I'd worn the day he saved my life with his blood transfusion. My fingers moved automatically, folding, creasing, transforming the flat paper into a perfect five-pointed star.

"One," I said softly, placing it in the empty glass jar on my desk.

Then I pulled out my phone and opened the notes app where I'd started documenting everything.

*August 15th: Found Sage's messages on Damian's phone. Confronted him. He dismissed my concerns and blamed me for overreacting.*

Another square of paper—this one red, like the anger burning in my chest. Fold, crease, transform.

"Two," I whispered, adding it to the jar.

*August 16th: Damian yelled at me for announcing the divorce in the family chat. Didn't apologize for Sage's messages. Only cared about his reputation.*

A yellow star joined the others.

*August 17th: Damian missed Mila's doctor appointment to "help Sage with a project." Our daughter cried for him.*

Green paper became star number four.

I worked methodically through the evening, each star a moment of betrayal, each fold a decision to remember rather than forget. The jar slowly filled with colorful points of light—beautiful and terrible at once.

By midnight, there were seventeen stars in the jar. Seventeen moments where the man I loved had chosen someone else over me.

I placed the jar on my nightstand where I could see it every morning when I woke up. A reminder. A countdown.

---

"Mommy, why is Daddy always in the car with that lady?"

Mila's innocent question cut through me like a knife as we walked to the driveway the next morning. Sage was already in the passenger seat of Damian's car, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight.

"It's complicated, sweetheart," I said, buckling Mila into her car seat in the back.

Damian barely glanced at us as we approached. "You're late," he said, checking his watch. "We need to get going."

I slid into the backseat beside Mila, the seat Sage should have been in.

"We're dropping Sage off first," Damian announced, pulling out of our driveway. "Then we'll take Mila to daycare and drop you at work."

I frowned, looking up from my phone. "That's the opposite direction from my office."

"So?" He shrugged, his eyes meeting Sage's in the rearview mirror. She smirked.

"So it adds at least thirty minutes to the commute. We should drop me off first, then Sage, then Mila."

"Don't be ridiculous, Celeste." His voice had that edge I'd come to dread. "Sage needs to be at work early for her training program. You should be more understanding."

"More understanding?" I echoed, feeling Mila's small hand slip into mine. "I have a meeting at nine."

"And I have responsibilities too!" Damian snapped, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Sage is new to the company. She needs support right now."

"And I don't?" The words escaped before I could stop them.

Sage laughed softly from the front seat. "Oh, I'm sure Celeste is perfectly capable of handling herself. Aren't you, Celeste?"

I didn't answer, focusing instead on Mila's innocent face. She was watching me with those big eyes that missed nothing.

"Is Daddy mad at you?" she whispered.

Before I could respond, Damian pulled up to Sage's apartment building.

"Thanks for the ride, Damian!" Sage chirped, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "See you this afternoon!"

As she sashayed away, Damian turned to me with cold eyes. "You should be more mature about this, Celeste. Sage is important to the company."

"More important than your wife? Than your daughter?" I asked quietly.

His only response was to put the car in gear and pull away from the curb.

I looked back at the jar of stars waiting on my nightstand at home. By tonight, there would be more to add.