Chapter 4

I had been the only girl of my generation in the Foster family, with seven older brothers and cousins above me, every one of them the kind of man people praised as exceptional.

The Fosters weren't just rich. They were a dynasty rooted in Wall Street and New York's upper crust.

Three years earlier, to escape a marriage arranged to tighten family business ties, I had run from New York to Fayetteville and taken a plain job as a clerk in a small grocery store.

My family eventually found me. When they saw I was serious about Luke, they made me a deal: if I couldn't marry Luke in the end, I had to go back and accept whatever match they arranged.

Back then I was arrogant enough to scoff at it.

Luke loved me. Anyone with eyes could see that.

So for Luke, I agreed.

I had believed what we had was unbreakable. Then Chloe appeared, and reality slapped me hard.

The moment the call connected, I made my choice without hesitation.

After I hung up, I went back to our apartment.

When I pushed the door open, the "new home" still looked like a wedding dream that had never made it to morning. White satin ribbons draped the corners. A "Happy Wedding" banner hung crookedly across the wall. A bottle of champagne sat unopened on the table, waiting for a celebration that would never happen.

I looked around. From the smallest little ornaments to the big pieces of furniture, everything had been picked by me, one careful decision at a time, for our wedding.

The day we finished decorating, Luke had swept me into his arms in this very room and spun me around until I laughed and got dizzy. "Ivy, you're a miracle," he'd said, eyes bright with excitement. "I swear I'll be loyal to you for the rest of my life."

The words still rang in my ears, but the world had already changed.

Thinking back on it now, it was almost funny.

I started packing.

Aside from the big furniture I couldn't take, what I could carry with me amounted to a few changes of clothes and my personal documents.

We'd planned to get the marriage license at the county courthouse after the ceremony. Now at least I didn't have to deal with a divorce.

I had just shoved the last piece of clothing into my suitcase when the phone rang.

"Ivy, are you home?" Luke's voice came through the receiver, urgent and strained.

"I'm here. What is it?" My voice sounded thin, even to me.

He exhaled like he'd been holding his breath. Then he hesitated, words tripping over each other. "It's raining really hard. Raleigh is about sixty miles from here... I don't think it's safe to drive back tonight."

I tightened my grip on the receiver and said nothing.

If this had been the old me, I would have snapped, demanded answers, let jealousy gnaw holes in my chest.

Now it wasn't worth it.

When I didn't respond, Luke rushed to explain, panic edging his voice. "We got two rooms at a motel. Nothing happened, I swear. If you're mad, you can yell at me when I get back. I know I messed up."

From the other end, Chloe's voice floated in—deliberately soft, deliberately sweet, the kind of shy that was meant to be overheard. "Luke, the hot water's ready..."

Luke immediately lowered his voice. "I'm sorry. Don't bottle it up, okay?"

"It's fine." I cut him off.

He went still for a beat, then his voice tightened. "Are you... are you crying?"

"I'm not." My tone stayed level.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then he spoke again, his voice rough and hoarse. "I'll be back first thing in the morning. Wait for me."

"Mm."

After I hung up, a cold, nameless bleakness spread through me.

The next morning, the rain stopped.

I lifted my suitcase, took one last look at the place that had been filled with my hope—and had shattered so completely—and walked out, closing the door behind me.

And Luke, the man who promised he'd come back first thing in the morning, still hadn't returned by the time I left.

I checked into the Days Inn motel closest to the grocery store.

The front desk clerk looked me over, eyes pausing on my pale face. "Miss, you look kind of washed out. Do you need me to call you a cab to the hospital?"

I shook my head, took the key, and went upstairs.

I had barely finished putting things away when someone knocked hard on my door.

"Ivy!"

When I opened it, Luke stood in the hallway like he'd been dragged out of a nightmare. His hair was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles bruising the skin beneath. His uniform was wrinkled and crooked, like he'd slept in it—if he'd slept at all.

He grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, holding too tight, his forearms locking around my back until it hurt.

"Why did you leave?" His voice shook, raw with fear and something close to grievance. "Do you know how worried I was?"

He clung to me like he could force me back into the shape of his life. "Come home. Please."

Before I could say a word, Chloe appeared at the top of the stairwell.

She looked pitiful on purpose—eyes swollen and red, cheeks blotched, as if she'd cried all night. She walked toward us with a wounded tilt to her mouth and accused me in a trembling voice, "Ivy, we just went to see a show. Did you really have to run away from home over that?"

She moved closer, voice sharpening through the tears. "Or is it that you just can't stand me? You want to punish me?"

The more she spoke, the more she choked on her own sobs. Then she grabbed Luke's sleeve with both hands like she couldn't stand on her own. "Luke—if Ivy hates me this much, I might as well just die!"