Chapter 4

He pulled out his phone, texting me: [Michelle, do as I say, and I'll transfer this apartment from Aubrey's name to yours. Never mind. Just get along with her, will you? I don't expect you to take care of her, just don't pick a fight.]

I remembered then. This wasn't the home for our marriage.

Aubrey had mentioned liking the view from the windows, and Samuel had immediately transferred the deed to her.

The single, stubborn grey checkmark on the screen felt as hollow and mocking as the withered rose petals still scattered across the bed.

Only now did Samuel…