Chapter 3

A sound escaped my throat, a mix of a gasp and a sob. I lunged forward, not at Chloe, but at the broken necklace on the floor.

Before I could reach it, Chloe let out a shriek. "She's attacking me! Liam, help!"

My hand was inches from the sapphires scattered on the carpet when Liam grabbed my arm. He yanked me back, his grip like iron.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Olivia?" he snarled, his face contorted with rage. He shoved me hard.

I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the rug. I fell, my head hitting the edge of the wooden table with a sickening crack. Pain exploded behind my eyes, sharp and blinding.

For a moment, the world went black. When my vision cleared, Liam was kneeling beside Chloe, his back to me.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? The baby?" he was murmuring, his voice thick with concern.

"I'm scared," Chloe whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder. "She looked crazy. I thought she was going to hurt our baby."

Liam held her tight, stroking her hair. He didn't even glance in my direction. He didn't see the blood trickling from the cut on my temple. He didn't care.

"I'm here. I won't let her touch you," he promised. Then, over his shoulder, he threw the words at me like stones. "Get out, Olivia. Get out before I call security and have you thrown out."

I pushed myself up, my body aching, my head spinning. The pain in my head was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. This wasn't my Liam. My Liam would have died before he let anyone hurt me, let alone hurt me himself.

This man was a stranger. A monster wearing my husband's face.

I walked out of the store, leaving them there. I didn't look back. There was nothing left to look back for.

That night, I went through the house like a ghost, collecting every trace of Liam. Photographs, his old sweatshirts I used to sleep in, the worn copy of his favorite book. I packed them all into a box. I found the divorce papers on my desk, picked up the pen, and signed my name. Olivia Vance.

I was erasing him, just as he had erased me.

I fell asleep on the couch, exhausted and empty. The next morning, I woke to my phone ringing. It was him.

For a wild, stupid second, I thought he was calling to apologize.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice hoarse.

"Olivia," he said, his tone businesslike. "I need you to do something for me."

I waited, my silence a question.

"Chloe is a bit overwhelmed with the wedding planning," he continued, completely oblivious. "And since you have... well, you have a lot of free time now, I was hoping you could help her. She needs to pick out flowers and a venue. You're good at that sort of thing."

I couldn't breathe. He wanted me to plan his wedding to another woman. The cruelty of it was staggering.

"You want me to help your pregnant girlfriend plan your wedding?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.

"Yes. It would mean a lot to me. To us. I want her to have the perfect day. She deserves it." He paused. "She's been through a lot."

Something inside me snapped. A cold, hard rage I had never felt before.

"She deserves it?" I repeated slowly. "Liam, do you remember our baby?"

Silence on the other end of the line.

"The one we lost," I pushed on, my voice breaking. "The one I miscarried six years ago, a month before your accident. Do you remember how you held me for three days straight because I couldn't stop crying? Do you remember how we promised each other we would have the biggest, most chaotic family? Do you remember any of that?"

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, sounding flustered. "Olivia, that's not... don't try to manipulate me with lies."

Lies. He thought our lost child was a lie.

The last flicker of warmth in my heart died out, leaving only ice and ash.

"You're right," I said, my voice suddenly light, almost cheerful. "My mistake. Of course, I'll help Chloe. Anything for her. Anything for the mother of your child."

I would help her. I would help her plan the most beautiful wedding. And then, I would disappear from their lives so completely it would be as if I never existed at all.