Chapter 1

Today was the one promise he swore he would never break.

It was our third wedding anniversary.

And the one night Gavin had promised he would come home, no matter what.

His company was holding a promotion dinner for him that evening.

Before leaving, he wrapped his arms around me and said,

“Eight o’clock. I’ll be home.”

I spent the afternoon cleaning the house until everything gleamed.

A bouquet of white roses sat in the center of the coffee table.

Gavin had proposed with white roses just like these three years earlier.

Back then, he had smiled and said,

“If I ever break a promise, pull off one petal.”

“When the flowers are gone, I’ll buy you a new bouquet.”

Later, I made a rule of my own.

Three hundred and sixty-five broken promises.

When the glass jar was full, I would leave.

At the time, I thought it was romantic.

I never imagined I would actually need it.

The small cake had just come out of the oven.

I filled a piping bag and carefully wrote across the frosting:

Our family is growing.

My hand trembled with excitement.

I opened the gift box again and adjusted the tiny pair of baby socks inside.

They were barely larger than my palm.

The pregnancy test with two pink lines rested beneath them.

I closed the lid and checked the time.

My phone lit up with a call from Mara Ellis.

I declined it without answering.

I had not answered a Whitmore Group call in three years.

Tonight, I only wanted to be Gavin’s wife.

Then I sent Gavin a message.

Are you coming home tonight?

His reply appeared less than a minute later.

I promised, didn’t I?

Eight o’clock. Don’t wait up too late.

I smiled and placed my phone beside the cake.

At eight, the candles flickered across the dinner table.

The lock never turned.

Eight thirty.

Nine.

By eleven, the food was cold.

I called him.

The phone rang until it went to voicemail.

I stared at the dark screen, then typed another message.

Is everything okay?

The read receipt appeared almost immediately.

No reply came.

At midnight, the roses had begun to droop.

The frosting softened beneath the warm kitchen lights.

The final candle burned down until the wick collapsed into the wax and went dark.

I picked up my phone to check the time.

Instead, I opened a social media app I had not used in months.

The first post was a video uploaded an hour earlier.

Fireworks exploded across the night sky.

Their light flashed over Gavin’s face.

He stood beside a younger woman, holding a little boy in his arms.

The child covered Gavin’s eyes and laughed.

“Daddy, make another wish!”

Gavin did not correct him.

He only smiled and gently lowered the boy’s hands.

Serena Vale stood beside them.

“Noah said you’d come,” she said softly.

Gavin looked at her.

“I promised him.”

The camera shifted.

Serena leaned against his shoulder.

The three of them looked like a family.

I stared at the screen.

Seeing him hold another woman’s child was not what hurt the most.

It was watching him keep the promise he had broken to me.

My eyes moved to the gift box on the table.

I opened it.

The two pink lines were still there.

Then Gavin’s message appeared.

I’m sorry.

Noah had a panic attack, and Serena couldn’t calm him down.

I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.

I read the message once.

Then I placed the baby socks back inside the box and closed the lid.

I picked up the silver cake knife.

Without hesitation, I cut straight through the words:

OUR FAMILY

The sentence split in half.

Gavin had chosen to keep his promise to someone else’s child.

He had no idea ours was waiting at home.

I walked to the coffee table and pulled one petal from the white roses.

Then I dropped it into the glass jar.

With that petal, the count reached three hundred and sixty-three.

Only two remained.

I closed the lid.

This time, I did not cry.