Chapter 1

Vicky said she had a business trip.

She couldn't make the music festival, the one I' d bought tickets for months ago.

"It's important, Ethan," she' d said, not looking at me.

So I went alone.

The sun was hot, the music loud. I tried to enjoy it, for Liam. He loved hearing about these things.

Then the main stage screen lit up. An interview.

And there was Vicky.

Smiling, next to Dylan Hayes. Her college ex.

The interviewer asked her about inspiration.

Vicky' s voice, usually so cool, was warm, almost girlish.

"It's about reconnecting with what' s truly authentic," she said, her eyes flicking to Dylan.

"Sometimes you wish you could go back to a simpler time."

She paused, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Like, three years ago, before I made certain life choices."

She looked right at Dylan then.

The crowd roared, thinking it was some romantic celebrity moment.

My stomach dropped. Three years ago. That' s when we got married.

The beer in my hand suddenly tasted like poison.

I couldn't breathe. The noise, the people, it was all pressing in.

I stumbled away from the main stage, the cheers echoing behind me. Betrayal. Public. Brutal.

Later, much later, the sky was dark.

A smaller stage had an open mic. Few people there.

My hands were shaking, but I signed up.

When they called my name, I walked up, guitar strap digging into my shoulder.

My voice was rough.

"This song," I started, my throat tight, "is for second chances. And new beginnings."

I looked out at the handful of faces, blurry in the dim light.

"If I could go back to a simpler time..."

I took a breath, the words tearing out of me.

"I would never have gotten married."

I played. I don' t know what. Just chords, raw and angry and hurt.

When I finished, a couple of people were looking at their phones, then at me. Bloggers, maybe.

My own phone buzzed in my pocket. Vicky.

I pulled it out, saw her name, and hit reject.

I stepped back to the mic. My voice was clearer now, cold.

"Victoria," I said, making sure my voice carried. "I agree to the divorce."

"My lawyer will be in touch Monday."

Then I walked off stage, leaving the buzzing phone behind.