Chapter 1

For our third wedding anniversary, Brayden Douglas said he wanted to take me on a road trip to Saltwick City to revisit our honeymoon days.

I was so excited. I ended up packing two whole suitcases.

But when I got downstairs with my luggage, I saw his childhood friend, Liliana Pearson, sitting in the passenger seat, helping Brayden set up the car's navigation.

I was just about to say, "That's my seat," when the back window rolled down, and three of our friends poked their heads out.

"Rose, what's taking you so long? Hurry up."

Brayden and Liliana shared a quick grin, then he helped her buckle up before finally leaning out the window.

The trunk was stuffed with Liliana's favorite snacks and a grill. There wasn't even a tiny spot left for my bags.

I stood there, frozen.

When we got married, he said this journey was meant to be ours alone.

But now, with Liliana in the mix, they were all laughing and having a blast, while I felt like just an outsider crashing their party.

Brayden noticed I was quiet and spoke softly, "Rose, about that... When I was making the group and sorting out tickets, I got so caught up asking Liliana and the others about their preferences.

"I totally forgot to include you. Now there's no space left in the car for you. You'll have to take the bus yourself. We'll meet up at the campsite."

Liliana leaned forward from the front seat. "Rose, don't be upset. Brayden's just super scatterbrained sometimes."

If there was no place for me on this trip, maybe there was no place for me in this marriage either.

"Rose, the bus is super spacious. You can totally catch some sleep on the way."

"Unlike us, crammed in the car for hours. My back's probably gonna be wrecked."

Brayden casually grabbed her thermos and opened it up for her. "Your back's been acting up, so make sure to recline your seat a little."

After that, he glanced over at me. "Hey, don't just stand there. The bus is about to leave. We're heading out now. See you at the campsite."

He didn't even ask what I was supposed to do with my luggage.

He never asked if I'd get carsick riding the bus by myself.

He didn't even bother to ask if I wanted to go.

The engine roared to life.

The SUV turned the corner right before my eyes and pulled out of the neighborhood gates.

I stood there, watching those red taillights fading around the bend.

I didn't cry, and I didn't make a scene.

I felt strangely calm.

I picked up my two suitcases and headed for the elevator.

I pushed open the front door.

On the living room wall, the banner I'd hung up myself yesterday. [Happy 3rd Anniversary.]

On the couch, two outdoor jackets sat side by side.

One was black, the other off-white.

I'd had them custom-made two weeks ago, with our initials embroidered on the front.

Now, no one would ever wear the black one again.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

It was a new group chat called Saltwick City Road Trip Crew.

Brayden had just tossed me in.

The chat was buzzing.

Liliana posted a selfie.

In the photo, she was sitting in the passenger seat, sunlight glowing on her face.

I could see Brayden's hand on the steering wheel too, his wrist sporting the watch I'd given him.

She captioned it: [The best driver ever. Off we go.]

Rowan Curtis jumped in right after. [Brayden's totally spoiling you, letting you hog the front seat like that.

[Rose must be feeling really miserable, stuck on the bus.]

Brayden sent a voice message.

I tapped to play it.

"Rose isn't that fragile. It's just a bus ride, no big deal. Liliana gets carsick, so she needs the front seat," he said it like he was totally right.

Then Brayden shot me a private message. [Are you on the bus yet? It's slow, so don't let it make you late for the bonfire tonight.]

Not even a hint of an apology. Just a blunt, icy push.

I stared at the words on the screen.

I tapped the top right corner and opened the group settings.

Then I tapped Leave Group.

Suddenly, everything was quiet.

I walked over to the coffee table.

I looked down at the simple wedding band on my ring finger.

After three years, it had picked up a few tiny scratches.

I held the edge and slowly slipped it off, bit by bit.

A pale band was left behind on my finger.

I set the ring down on the glass table.

A soft "ding" echoed in the room.

Next, I dialed up the real estate agent.

The call was answered almost instantly. "Miss Rose, how can I help you?"

"I need to list this house," I said softly. "Sell it fast. List it for 30 thousand dollars under market value. The sooner, the better."

*****

The next morning, I was woken up by a flood of notifications from my social apps.

The room felt so empty.