Chapter 1

My husband stood in the middle of the living room, his arm wrapped around another woman's waist.

The music started just as I was walking across the room with two glasses of champagne.

It was At Last.

Three months earlier, I had sat on the kitchen floor listening to more than a dozen songs before finally playing this one for Callum.

I asked him if we could dance to it on our third wedding anniversary.

He lowered his head and kissed my forehead. "As long as you don't break my toes."

I laughed for ages.

But now, Brielle stood before him in a skintight red dress, one hand resting on my husband's shoulder.

When she dipped backward, Callum caught her with practiced ease. He didn't move like a man who had only been rehearsing with her for a few weeks. He moved as though he had held her this way countless times before.

I tightened my grip on the champagne flutes, the cold glass digging into my palm.

Callum had told me I was a slow learner. He said he would master the steps first, then teach me at home.

So every Tuesday and Thursday, I watched him leave with his gym bag. Then I practiced the basic steps alone in our living room, counting one, two, three until my feet wore faint tracks along the edge of the rug.

I had always believed we were simply rehearsing separately for the same dance.

It wasn't until that moment that I understood.

I had been preparing for our anniversary.

Callum had been preparing to look perfect with Brielle in front of everyone we knew.

As the song reached the chorus, Callum spun her around. The hem of Brielle's dress brushed his leg. She leaned close and whispered something into his ear.

He laughed.

The sight made my chest tighten.

It wasn't a polite smile. It wasn't part of the performance.

It was the smile of a man enjoying the way another woman looked up at him.

"They look so good together," someone murmured beside me.

Someone else joked, "They look like the bride and groom at their own wedding."

Laughter rippled through the room.

Callum didn't correct them.

He looked down at Brielle instead. She didn't release him. Her fingers slowly slid up to the back of his neck.

I set both glasses down on the nearest table.

Their bases struck each other with a sharp clink.

"That song is supposed to be my anniversary dance with my husband."

I didn't raise my voice, but the people nearby fell silent.

Callum finally looked at me.

The smile faded from his face. But guilt wasn't the first emotion I saw.

It was irritation at being interrupted, as though I were the one who had done something wrong.

Brielle turned toward me without stepping out of his arms.

"Don't be so serious, Tessa." Her smile remained perfectly casual. "I'm just training your husband for you. I'll give him back when I'm done."

A couple of people let out awkward laughs.

I looked at the hand resting on Callum's chest, then at my husband.

I waited for him to push her away.

I waited for him to say that the song really was meant for our anniversary.

I waited for an apology, even one he didn't mean.

Instead, he frowned.

"She was joking," he said. "You didn't have to make a scene in front of everyone."

The tightness in my chest sank into something heavier.

I remembered our first dance lesson, when Brielle said I had no sense of rhythm and asked Callum to demonstrate with her instead.

During the second lesson, she said I couldn't keep up and told me to sit on the sidelines and record them.

Before long, they had inside jokes only the two of them understood.

I became the woman who fetched their water and watched their coats.

Every time I said something felt wrong, Callum told me I was imagining things.

Now I knew better.

I hadn't been overthinking.

I had been putting up with too much.

Brielle finally stepped half a pace out of his arms, as though she had decided to spare me a place beside my own husband.

But the song was already over.

The applause had already been given.

They had taken something that belonged to me, used every last piece of it, then casually offered it back as though nothing had happened.

Callum held out his hand.

"Come on. Stop making a fuss. I'll dance the next one with you."

I looked at his hand.

I didn't take it.

"I don't want the next one."

His expression froze.

I turned and walked toward the door. Behind me, Brielle lowered her voice.

"Did I ruin everything?"

She spoke softly enough to sound discreet, but loudly enough to make sure I heard.

Callum's answer was even quieter.

"This isn't your fault."