Chapter 3

I deliberately waited until Jonathan left the house before getting out of bed.

For the next few days, he came home on time every evening, to the point where I began to wonder if all those years of his late nights had been nothing more than my imagination.

Then came the night of his father's birthday party.

I had long since accepted that such occasions had nothing to do with me. Jonathan kept our marriage so well hidden that even his family and friends knew nothing about it. Naturally, he never took me along to family gatherings or social events.

It was always me who loved him more, and because I didn't want to push him too hard, I chose to endure in silence.

Before going to sleep, I happened to scroll through Instagram and saw a post from Jonathan's assistant wishing his father a happy birthday. I clicked on the photos and flipped through them one by one.

At the center of the album was a Reed family portrait. Standing beside Jonathan, clinging to his arm with a bright smile, was Sophie.

My chest tightened so sharply I could hardly breathe.

It made sense. Whether in Jonathan's heart or in name, that empty space beside him all these years had always been reserved for Sophie. Who else could it be for?

The people and celebrations that had nothing to do with me were intimately tied to her.

I looked out the window. Moonlight streamed in, casting pale silver across the floor. Suddenly, my vision blurred. I reached up and found my face wet with tears.

I walked over to the glass. I should have been used to this by now, shouldn't I?

When it came to both family and love, I was always the discarded one, the second choice, the consolation prize.

When I was very young, my parents left me with my grandmother so they could build a business elsewhere.

And they really did make it big. In our small hometown, they became something like local legends.

I thought that meant I would finally get my parents back. Instead, they returned with my younger brother, the one they had raised by their side all along, to visit Grandma and me.

My name was Natalie Grant. My parents picked it without a second thought.

My brother was Lucas Grant. Aside from our shared last name, there was nothing that made us feel like siblings.

Lucas didn't even know me. Pampered since birth, he was arrogant and spoiled, unrestrained in front of me.

All they ever said was, "You're the older sister. Let Lucas have his way."

But when their visit ended, they forgot I was his sister. They left the way they came, not even remembering that I was their kid, too.

From that moment on, I decided Grandma was my only real family.

And I swore I would give her a better life.

With that conviction, I worked my way into the university I had dreamed of. On orientation day, I saw Jonathan for the first time, and I had never met anyone who shone so brightly.

He was like the sun.

And me?

The debate team said I was just a stone at the foot of a mountain.

The night we won a debate competition, the team went out to celebrate. I arrived late, and as I reached the private dining room, I overheard their voices from outside. They were mocking me mercilessly.

They laughed at the idea that someone as ordinary as a dull, black rock at the base of a mountain could ever hope to reach for Jonathan.

"Jonathan, Natalie turns red every time she looks at you. She's so awkward. It's hilarious."

"Good thing Jonathan already has a girlfriend. Natalie would just be dreaming."

Through the crack of the door, I could see Sophie clinging to him, pressing closer as everyone teased.

Their laughter roared, beating in my ears like drums.

I stood frozen at the threshold, my face burning, fingers clenching my sleeves. I strained to hear whether Jonathan's voice joined in with the others.

Then I sent him a message: [Jonathan, I'm not feeling well tonight. I won't be joining the dinner. Sorry.]

His reply came instantly: [Okay.]

A few minutes later, another message followed: [You are the gem hidden inside the stone.]

He knew I had heard.

Jonathan was always sharp.

I couldn't stop loving him, and I couldn't stand to see him in despair.

Before I offered to take the fall as the mole, I called Grandma.

"Grandma, what if I end up with nothing? What if I fail completely?" I asked.

"Sweetheart, just do what you want to do, what feels right, what makes you happy. Whether you succeed or not doesn't matter," she said.

"But what if I make the wrong choice?" I hesitated.

"Then you start over," she told me.