Chapter 2

Mark stared at me, his jaw tight. "What do you mean, no? It's a simple request."

"Is it?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady. "Or is it another way for you to offload your responsibilities onto me while you cater to Jessica?"

He scoffed. "Don't be dramatic, Sarah. I'm busy. You're not doing anything important."

His dismissal of my time, my life, stung, but I held my ground.

"I have my own things to attend to," I said, turning away and walking towards our bedroom.

"Sarah! Get back here! You will take Jessica!" he yelled after me.

I closed the bedroom door and locked it. A small, symbolic act of defiance, but it felt significant.

Later, I heard them in the living room. Mark was talking to Jessica, his voice softer, more patient than I' d heard it with me in years. He was explaining some complex zoning regulation to her.

Flashback: Years ago, when I was struggling with a similar concept for a university project, I' d asked Mark for help. He' d waved me off. "Figure it out yourself, Sarah. That' s how you learn."

The memory was a fresh stab of pain. He had the capacity for patience, for mentorship. He just chose not to extend it to me.

The realization settled, cold and heavy. He was devoted to her in a way he' d never been to me, not even in the beginning.

He left with Jessica a little while later, presumably to the Oakhaven site visit. The apartment felt eerily quiet.

I lay in bed, but sleep wouldn't come. His priorities were clear. I was an afterthought, an inconvenience.

The loneliness was a hollow ache in my chest.

The next morning, I made a decision. I needed to see Oakhaven for myself, to see Professor Davies' project. But I wouldn't let Mark know my true intentions.

"Mark," I said, my voice carefully neutral. "I thought about it. If you still need someone to drive Jessica around sometimes, I can do it. If my schedule allows."

He looked surprised, then a smug smile touched his lips. "Good. I knew you'd see reason."

Inside, I cringed at his condescension, but I forced a small, agreeable nod. This was a strategic deception. I needed the freedom to move, to plan my escape.

I had to accept it. The love I thought we shared, if it ever truly existed, was gone. Replaced by his ambition and his infatuation with a younger, more malleable woman.

My heart felt like a bruised fruit, tender and aching, but I knew I couldn't let it rot. I had to save myself.