Chapter 1

On the day of our seventh wedding anniversary, I felt something in the inside pocket of my husband Leonard Rivers' suit jacket. It was a keycard.

The card was black matte, worn shiny at the edges from constant use.

On the back, written in gold ink, were three words. It read: [For Rose. Private.]

And right then, Leonard was standing in the center of the ballroom. He raised his champagne glass. Through all the flowers and the lights, he looked at me, his eyes soft.

He said, "Natalie, you're the only one I'll ever love."

Applause broke out around us.

My phone lit up at the same time.

A number I didn't know had sent three photos.

The first one was taken in the glass conservatory on the west side of town. Leonard was bent over, tying a girl's shoelace. He looked patient, like he were handling something breakable.

The second photo showed the girl in a long white dress. I had designed that dress myself and planned to wear it to our anniversary party. She was sitting among a whole row of Ecuadorian blue roses, looking up at him, smiling.

The third was a screenshot of a payment. An additional payment for the climate control system at Rose Conservatory. 400,000 dollars. The payer was Leonard.

Below the photos, there was a message. It read: [Mrs. Rivers, sorry about last night. The roses bloomed. Your husband was too busy keeping me company to come home.]

I looked at the message and tapped my fingers against the edge of my phone case, twice, very lightly.

*****

The host smiled and reminded me, "Ms. Branch, Mr. Rivers is waiting for you on stage."

I looked up, forcing the same smile onto my face.

Seven years of marriage. Seven years of sharing the same bed. I knew exactly what Leonard was most afraid of.

He wasn't afraid of me crying. He wasn't afraid of me throwing a fit. What he really feared was me not yelling, not making a fuss, and just smiling at him.

I walked up the stage in my heels and took the bouquet from his hands. 999 red roses, arranged into a huge, dramatic heart.

A few people in the crowd started teasing.

"Mr. Rivers is so romantic."

"Ms. Branch really hit the jackpot."

Leonard looked down at me, his eyes full of that deep affection that could fool anyone who didn't know better. "Do you like it?"

I looked at the flowers and suddenly felt like laughing. He sure knew how to arrange things. He surely knew how to manage appearances.

On one hand, he was pampering his delicate Rose on the side. On the other, he tossed a bunch of bulk-bought red roses at me, his official wife, hoping I'd be satisfied.

I took the microphone. My voice came out so steady that even I was surprised. "Yes. But I have a gift for you, too, Mr. Rivers."

Leonard froze for a second, then smiled, "What gift?"

I looked up at him. "You'll find out soon enough. I hope you'll like it too."

He probably thought I was about to surprise him. The smile in his eyes only grew. He leaned down and gave my forehead a gentle kiss.

Another round of applause came from the crowd.

Only I knew that the last bit of warmth left in me had turned cold.

When the party ended, Leonard took my arm, like he did at every other event, proper and polished.

Someone said I looked radiant that night. He took the drink off my hands.

Someone said we were the rarest couple in our circle. He smiled and said, "Natalie's got a bit of a temper. No one else could put up with her but me."

Everyone laughed. I laughed too.

Only I knew that as I dug my nails into my palms, I almost wanted to slap that keycard right across his face on the spot.

But I held back.

Leonard knew how to play the devoted husband in public. If I called him out in front of everyone, he could act more innocent than anyone.

When most of the guests had gone, he slipped a velvet box into my hand. "Open it."

I lifted the lid. Inside was a diamond necklace, a beautifully cut centerpiece, surrounded by small diamonds in the shape of a rose.

A while ago, I might have been truly happy. But now, all I felt was irony.

I closed the box, looked up at him, and said, "It's nice."

He let out a quiet breath and reached out to hug me.

I took a half step back, dodging him like I'd lost my footing.

Leonard's hand froze in midair. His brow furrowed slightly. "What's wrong?"

I took the keycard out of my bag and placed it gently in his palm. "This. For me too?"

The air went quiet for a few seconds.

The look in his eyes changed clearly. But he covered it up just as quickly. He glanced down at the card and smiled like nothing was wrong.

He said, "It's a keycard for a new project. It must've been a mix-up by my assistant."

"What kind of project needs a card that says 'For Rose. Private'?" I asked.

He reached up and loosened his tie. His face stayed calm. "Just a florist I work with. She's a bit odd and throws tantrums sometimes. I just humor her. A few casual nice words, that's all."

He looked at me, and his expression somehow showed a hint of helplessness. "Natalie, since when did you start going through my pockets?"

Listen to that. It was always like this. He was the one with all the dirty secrets, but somehow he always turned it around and made me look like the unreasonable one.

I handed the necklace back to him. "Guess I was overthinking it."

Leonard stared at me, like he was trying to figure out what was really going on in my head. "Of course you were overthinking it."

"What about the photos?" I asked.

His smile froze for a moment. "What photos?"

I held up my phone. "Someone just sent them to me."

This time, he stopped smiling completely. He reached for my phone.

I immediately turned off the screen and shoved it back into my bag. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll see it wrong, or afraid I'll see it too clearly?"

"Natalie." His voice carried a warning edge when he said my name.

That was always the sign before he lost his temper. Before, every time he got like that, I would give in first.

But tonight, I just looked at him. I looked at the man who had been with me since I was 26, all the way to 33.

The man who used to ride an electric scooter with me, delivering flowers until dawn. The man who stood by my mother's hospital bed and swore he would be good to me.

I watched him turn, little by little, into what he was now.