Chapter 1

I was being wheeled into the ER when I spotted Andrew Shaw at the far end of the hallway.

He was bent over a paper cup, using a spoon to carefully fish marshmallows out of Chloe Summers' hot chocolate one by one.

Without looking up, he passed the cup to his assistant. "Make sure Chloe gets this. Light on the sugar, no whipped cream. Her stomach can't handle anything too heavy."

I lay there on the gurney, the edges of my vision going dark as my throat started to close. It felt like someone's hand was wrapped around my windpipe, squeezing tighter with every second.

A nurse was tapping my cheek, her voice sharp with worry. "Is there family here? Does she have allergies? Has this happened before?"

Andrew glanced my way, frowning. He looked more annoyed than concerned. "She's probably just upset. She gets like that sometimes."

The nurse's voice cracked. "Her lips are turning blue. Are you seriously telling me you don't see she's having a reaction?"

That made him pause. He walked over in a few long steps, eyes narrowing as he stared at the rash spreading up my neck, red, raised, angry.

His voice came out low and strange. "Evelyn, since when are you allergic to mangoes?"

I almost laughed right there on the stretcher.

Five years of marriage, and he truly had no clue. Or maybe it was worse than that. He simply never cared to remember.

I tried to speak, but my throat was too swollen. Nothing came out.

That was when Ryan Cooper burst out of the elevator, still in his suit jacket. He didn't stop to take it off before yanking the EpiPen from my purse and shoving it into the nurse's hand.

"She's got a severe nut allergy. She went into shock three years ago. Start treatment, now!" Ryan shouted.

The nurse grabbed the pen and shot Andrew a look that could cut glass. "Some husband you are. You don't know your own wife could die from this?"

That look stung more than the allergic reaction itself.

Half an hour earlier, I had been sitting in the front row of the hotel ballroom, watching Andrew host a celebration for our fifth anniversary and the company's new funding round.

Our wedding photos were up on the big screen.

The champagne tower sparkled, the lights blazed, and the room was stuffed with reporters.

Everyone went on about how young and successful Andrew was, how lucky I must be, what a perfect couple we were.

And then Chloe walked back in. The second her heels clicked through the door, the whole room went quiet for a beat.

She wore a white dress, her hair falling loose, with that familiar touch of pink around her eyes. Same as she did five years ago.

She was Andrew's first love, the one he never moved past. To everyone else, she was the one who got away. The ghost he could never shake.

I sat at the head table and watched Andrew rise from his chair.

He stood up so fast that he left the glass of champagne I had just handed him sitting there untouched.

He took a few steps forward, his throat moving. When he said her name, it came out soft, barely a whisper. "Chloe."

Chloe smiled as if nothing had changed. "Andrew. It's been a while."

Every gaze in the room flickered between the three of us. Nobody was sure where to look.

The awkwardness landed so hard that the host on stage forgot his next line.

I held onto my champagne glass, my fingers tightening around the stem.

Andrew acted like I wasn't there. He turned to his assistant and said, "Get her a hot chocolate. Light on the sugar, no whipped cream, warm."

The words came out so easily, like he'd said them a thousand times, like five years meant nothing at all.

I sat behind him, and suddenly the spotlight felt too bright.

A man could say he had moved on. But his reflexes wouldn't lie.

I'd known Andrew for seven years and had been married for five.

He remembered everything about Chloe. Her hot chocolate order, the way she hated onions, the back pain she got once a month, and her love for jasmine perfume.

But he had no idea I was allergic to mangoes. Or that cold drinks at night wrecked my stomach.

He didn't know I'd had an endoscopy two months ago, and the doctor told me to cut back on alcohol.

And he sure as hell didn't know I never wanted to show up at this so-called anniversary party today.

The moment Chloe came back, it was like someone flipped a switch inside Andrew. He lit up again.

He took the hot chocolate from his assistant and handed it to her himself, his voice gentle in a way I hadn't heard in years. "Still tastes the same, right? Nothing's changed?"

Chloe took the cup, a smile spreading across her face. "You still remember."

I could feel everyone in the room flinch.

People kept sneaking glances at me. Some looked sorry for me, some looked thrilled, some waited for me to fall apart.

But I sat still. I lifted my glass and tried not to look broken.