Chapter 1

Ethan Lester had 99 affairs in our ten years of marriage.

I knew about every single one.

But he made a promise to me on our wedding day in Tuscany, under a sky full of stars. He held my face in his hands and said, "Elyse, you are the only woman I will ever have a child with. You will be the mother of my heir."

This promise was the one thread holding our marriage together. It was the reason I stayed, the reason I tolerated the endless parade of women who came and went. They were temporary. A family with me was supposed to be permanent.

But the 100th one was different.

Her name was Molly Chavez. A 23-year-old barista with a sharp tongue and a carefully constructed "anti-establishment" attitude. She worked at an indie coffee shop in San Francisco, the kind of place Ethan would never have set foot in before.

He was completely obsessed with her. He told his friends she was "authentic," a "wild spirit." To me, she was just a more clever predator.

Tonight was our 10th wedding anniversary. Ethan had booked a table at a three-Michelin-star restaurant, a place we had to wait six months for.

I sat there for two hours, the waiters looking at me with pity.

He never showed up.

Instead, a notification popped up on my phone. A shared calendar alert for an appointment he must have forgotten to make private.

"Women's Health Clinic, San Francisco."

My blood ran cold. I left a pile of cash on the table, walked out of the restaurant, and drove straight to the address.

I found them in the parking lot. Ethan was pressing a blank check into Molly' s hand, his voice desperate.

"Molly, please. Just take it. It's enough to set you up for life."

Molly, her belly already showing a slight curve, looked at him with disdain. She was performing.

Then, she tore the check in half and threw the pieces back in his face.

"I don't want your money, Ethan," she declared, her voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "I want you to leave me alone. The baby is my responsibility, and you are free."

Ethan didn't look angry. He looked completely captivated. He watched her as if she had just hung the moon in the sky.

He turned and saw me standing there, my anniversary dress feeling like a costume.

He didn't even flinch.

"Elyse," he said, his voice flat. "Let's go home. We'll talk about this."

Molly smirked at me, a flicker of triumph in her eyes.

As I stumbled back to my car, the cold San Francisco fog felt like it was seeping into my bones. In my mind, I made a decision. I would give him ten last chances. Ten chances to remember the decade we shared. Ten chances to honor his one, single promise.