Chapter 1

I dated Ryan Sullivan for three years, and we were secretly married for four. But then I saw him sitting in his car, holding his first love in his arms.

He looked at me and said, "Claire, I'm sorry. You remind me so much of her, but you're not her."

But after I left, he pleaded, "I'll divorce her. Please, just come back to me."

*****

We had been married four years, yet no one around us knew we were husband and wife.

Ryan said marriage was a matter for two people only, nothing to do with anyone else.

On our fourth anniversary, he promised me a surprise. I had prepared a gift, cooked a meal, and waited eagerly for him to come home.

But I never imagined the surprise he had in store for me.

Near eleven, Ryan still had not come home. Worried, I called several times, but no one answered.

I took my phone and went straight to the garage, intending to drive to his office.

The garage was eerily quiet, the only sound my footsteps echoing softly.

As I approached our parking spot, I saw Ryan's black Maybach was already parked there.

Could he be back?

For some reason, unease rose in me. I slowed my steps and moved toward the front of the car.

Inside the car, two people were entwined, kissing as if they could not part.

In the silent night, in that narrow, sealed space, they held each other tightly.

I stood rooted to the spot.

The pain surged like a tide, wave after wave, without end.

The woman spotted me first, startled into stillness. Following her gaze, Ryan also saw me standing before the car.

They were still locked in an embrace.

Ryan pressed his hand on her, as if to calm her, or to stop her from getting out.

By then, the woman had steadied herself. She brushed away Ryan's hand, slipped from his arms, and pushed open the door. A fair, slender right foot in a beige heel stepped onto the ground.

She walked calmly up to me, meeting my eyes with brazen certainty, as if I were the one caught as a third party.

"Claire Summers, right? I've seen your photo on Ryan's phone. I'm Emily Owens," she said, her tone icy and unruffled, radiating this confidence like she was holding all the cards.

"You saw what just happened. I'm sorry, but honestly, I think it's best you hear the truth now. Ryan and I planned to tell you eventually, so we're just coming clean," said she. I was stunned that such shameless words could be spoken so righteously.

I ignored her, my gaze passing over to Ryan, who was still in the car, pale and visibly rattled.

Ryan scrubbed his hands over his face in agitation, lips pressed tight as if bracing himself, then finally stepped out of the car.

He moved to stand beside Emily.

At that moment, I knew I had lost.

He made his choice—leave me alone, facing the two of them.

"Claire, I'm sorry," Ryan said, his voice thick with regret. "I can't let go of what I feel for Emily after all these years. I don't want to lie to myself, or to you. You remind me of her, but you're not her."

My throat was raw. "Ryan, we've been married four years. What do I mean to you? What was I really?"

Emily took a step forward, her gaze icy. "Claire, Ryan's said it himself. You're just a substitute. Letting go is better for all of us. In love, the one who isn't loved is always on the outside."

Ryan gently pulled Emily back beside him and said softly, "Emily, let me handle this."

Looking at the shameless pair before me, I thought I would break down, but I did not.

With a hand that was visibly shaking, I reached out to Emily. "Nice to meet you, though in such a filthy way."

Emily paused, her face showing a trace of awkwardness. She didn't take my hand.

Ryan walked over and brusquely shoved my hand aside. He held Emily, guided her into the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel himself. With a roar, the car sped out of the garage.

Even after the engine's thunder faded and the car had disappeared into the night, that ringing in my head just wouldn't let up.

Numb, I just turned and walked home.

*****

I unlocked the door with my fingerprint. As the lock clicked, a rush of cold air from the AC struck me, chilling me to the bone.

I shivered uncontrollably—so much that my phone slipped right out of my hand and crashed onto my foot.

Hugging my knees, I shrank into the corner of the sofa, trying to steady myself.

On the dining table, the meal I'd slaved over all day sat untouched. Next to it was a carefully wrapped gift box, inside of which was a limited-edition telescope I'd managed to snag through a friend's connection—six months ago.

Ryan loved stargazing at night, always saying the sky was full of endless wonders. I'd spent so long picking out that telescope, and it was the best gift I could afford.

But before I even had the chance to give him my gift, he handed me his so-called "surprise" instead.

Looking back now, every time Ryan gazed at the midnight sky, he must've been longing for her—for that woman far away.