Chapter 4

The final break happened a week later. I was at a local farmers market, selling the last batch of my signature lavender honey macarons. It was a way to make some quick cash before I left for Seattle.

Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance.

Jackson. And Blair.

They were a vision of East Coast privilege, even among the rustic charm of the market. He, in a tailored cashmere coat, she, in a fur-trimmed jacket, a designer bag slung over her shoulder. They were laughing, pointing at a display of artisanal cheeses, clearly on a slumming adventure.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the crowd.

Then Blair saw me. Her eyes widened in theatrical surprise, then narrowed with a predatory glint. She whispered something to Jack, tugging on his arm.

He turned. His smile faltered when he saw me. For a split second, he looked... guilty? Uncomfortable?

It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

They walked over to my small, unassuming stall. The other vendors, my friends, fell silent, watching.

"Emily! Fancy meeting you here," Blair trilled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Selling your little cakes? How... quaint."

Jackson looked down at my neatly arranged macarons. "Still baking, huh?"

"It's what I do, Jack," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

"We were just talking about you," Blair said, linking her arm through his. "Weren't we, darling? Jack was saying how he hopes you're doing okay. After... everything."

He nodded, avoiding my eyes. "Yeah. Hope you're... good."

The air crackled with unspoken tension. I could feel the curious stares of everyone around us.

"I'm leaving for Seattle next week," I said, meeting his gaze directly. "I have a new job."

Blair's smile tightened. "Seattle? How... adventurous. So far away." She squeezed Jack's arm. "We'll miss you, won't we, sweetie?"

Jack mumbled something noncommittal.

I started packing up my remaining macarons. I couldn't stand being a spectacle for them a moment longer.

"So, this is it then?" Jack finally said, a strange note in his voice. "You're really going?"

"Yes."

"Just like that? After seven years?"

The hypocrisy was astounding. "You're the one who ended it, Jack. When you put that ring on her finger." I gestured towards Blair.

Blair gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "Well, I never! Such hostility, Emily. And after Jackson has been so... generous."

"Generous?" I almost laughed. "He was generous with my money, perhaps."

Jack's face darkened. "That's enough, Emily."

"No, it's not enough," I said, my voice rising. "You want to talk about seven years, Jack? Let's talk about the cheap zirconia ring you pawned off on me. The one you probably bought at a mall kiosk."

He flushed. "It was a symbol..."

"A symbol of what, Jack? How little I meant to you?" I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small, velvet box he'd given me. The one from our anniversary. I'd kept it, a painful reminder.

I opened it and thrust it towards him. The dull stone winked pathetically in the market lights.

"Here. You can have it back. Maybe you can give it to your next 'country girl.'"

Blair recoiled as if I'd offered her a snake. "How dare you!"

Jack just stared at the ring, then at me, his expression unreadable.

"I don't want it," he said, his voice low.

"Too bad. It's yours." I dropped it onto his perfectly polished shoe.

Then I turned my back on them, on the whispers, on the seven years of lies, and walked away.