Chapter 2

Brooke wanted me to call the restaurant and replace "eighteenth wedding anniversary" with her name.

She asked while holding the itinerary I'd spent weeks putting together.

"Just put it under my name," she said. "I'd hate for the staff to get the wrong idea."

I looked at the itinerary in her hands.

The dinner was circled in blue.

Eighteen years.

She wanted the table. She just didn't want anyone saying why I'd reserved it.

"No," I said. My voice was completely calm. "I will not do that."

Daniel moved closer.

"It's one phone call, Claire."

I stared at him.

He was the one who had suggested this trip.

After Brooke's marriage ended, he had spent months helping her. Apartment viewings. Meetings with her lawyer. Evenings when she didn't want to eat alone.

I understood the first few times.

Then he missed my birthday dinner because her divorce papers had arrived.

I put his food in the refrigerator and went to bed before he came home.

The next morning, he took my hand.

"I know I haven't been around," he said. "Let's go away for our anniversary. A whole week. Just us."

I believed him.

I had been saving for a trip for almost a year.

Now Brooke was asking me to remove my name.

I looked at my husband of eighteen years. He wanted to use my money to treat another woman. He wanted me to erase our marriage milestone. He wanted me to do the administrative work for their vacation.

I felt exhausted. I just wanted them out of my house.

"Fine," I said flatly. "I will handle the reservation."

Daniel smiled. He looked incredibly relieved. He turned to Brooke and touched her shoulder.

"See? I told you she would understand," Daniel said to her. "Let's go. We need to go to the mall. We have to buy travel supplies and a new sun hat for you before Friday."

Brooke smiled back at him. They turned around and walked away.

I heard the front door open. I heard it close. The house went completely silent.

I walked to my home office. I sat down and opened my laptop.

I logged into the restaurant website. I found my reservation for Saturday night.

The screen showed the details in bold text. Table for two. Ocean view terrace. Special occasion: 18th Wedding Anniversary.

I did not change the name to Brooke Ellis. I did not modify the booking to accommodate her.

Instead, I moved my mouse. I clicked the red button. I canceled my own anniversary dinner entirely.

The terrace table disappeared from my screen. The restaurant would give it to a stranger. That was fine with me.

Then, I opened another email thread I'd been avoiding.

A client had offered me a short project starting Monday. I'd asked to delay because of the trip.

They had said to let them know if anything changed.

I wrote back.

"My schedule has opened. If the project is still available, I'd like to proceed."

I hit send.

An hour later, my phone rang. The screen flashed with Daniel's name.

I answered the call.

"I just got an automatic cancellation email," Daniel said. His voice was loud and angry.

"Yes," I answered quietly.

"Why would you do that? I already promised her," Daniel said. "Call them back. Get the reservation restored!"