Chapter 4

Three days. That's how long Marcus claimed he'd be in Los Angeles for meetings with potential investors. Three days of silence broken only by sporadic texts about poor reception and back-to-back meetings. Three days that had stretched my already fraying trust to its breaking point.

When he walked through our apartment door that evening, the first thing I noticed wasn't his tired smile or the expensive bottle of wine in his hand. It was the tan line peeking from beneath his collar—a fresh, distinct demarcation that hadn't been there when he left.

"You're back," I said, my voice carefully neutral…