Chapter 1

When I stumbled across my boyfriend's secret account, he had just posted a thread asking which cities were best for couples to travel to.

Just for fun, I left an anonymous comment recommending a charming ancient town I'd always adored but never actually visited.

Ten minutes later, he replied: [Thanks, but my girl and I already checked out that place for Valentine's Day this year.

[She wasn't into it.]

*****

My fingers froze.

I tapped on that avatar again, the one with a string of random numbers, and checked out Darell Parham's profile.

He hadn't posted much, but every single post was proof that this was my boyfriend.

There was the custom watch I'd given him, that special hydroponic plant on his desk, and a photo from our five-year anniversary, my hand wearing the ring.

I steadied myself and went back to read his reply. [My girl.]

I was two years older than Darell, and he'd never once called me that.

This year, Darell was away on a business trip with his team on Valentine's Day. He was so swamped that he didn't even call me.

Keeping my composure, I texted my assistant and asked her to pull up the tech department's business trip list for Valentine's Day.

Three minutes later, I had my answer.

Thelma Shortle was the only woman among the interns on the trip. She was a fresh graduate, barely a year out of college.

It was just as I thought.

I remembered mentioning to him last night about taking next week off for a trip to unwind.

His big project was wrapping up, and next week would be his least busy. He'd finally have some free time.

But before I could finish, he looked up from his computer and replied in a calm voice, "I've got a new business trip next week, so I won't have time.

"If you want to go, just go with your best friend."

Six years into our relationship, this was the first time he'd ever said no to taking a vacation with me.

Ever since we started working at the same company, we always took our time off together.

Even after I found his secret account and saw that post, I still thought maybe he was planning a surprise for me.

Someone from HR told me, "Ms. Smith, Mr. Parham put in his annual leave request three days ago.

"Next week, the operations department's deputy manager, someone from legal, and Thelma, the tech intern, are all off. Thelma's taking a whole week of sick leave."

I smiled wryly to myself.

Whenever someone mentioned Thelma, the whole room would go quiet and the conversation got awkward.

On her first day, everyone already knew she was the headquarters director's niece. People just saw her as a pampered princess, here for a resume boost.

When Darell talked to me about her, he'd always keep it strictly professional, acting like he didn't care at all.

"They're all just interns as far as I'm concerned. Makes no difference to me," Darell would say.

But this past year, his special treatment toward her was getting more and more obvious.

He'd tie the red string Thelma gave him behind the watch I gave him, saying she'd had it blessed at a church, just for good luck.

He'd put the stuffed animal Thelma gave him front and center on his desk, claiming everyone in the department got one, so no one would think he was singling her out.

He forgot our anniversary for the first time ever, but he remembered tomorrow was Thelma's 100th day on the job and had already made a reservation at her favorite place.

When I asked him about it, he'd just tell me I was being paranoid.

He'd say, "With her connections, of course, I pay her a little extra attention. It's not a big deal.

"That's just office politics. You're a director now, you get it, right?"

I kept letting it slide because I knew how things worked. But seeing that post, the smoking gun, I couldn't ignore it anymore.

If I'd already felt him slipping away before, now I could finally call it quits.

I sat in my office all afternoon, just staring into space, then went home and waited for Darell to come back from working late.

I said while lounging in my chair, "I saw your leave request at HR."

I heard Darell stop in his tracks as he walked in.

"You've been checking up on me? That's my private business," he snapped, his voice tinged with anger.

I said, not even bothering to look up, "Oh, really?

"Does your 'private business' include your girl, too?"