Chapter 3

The smile on Kelsey's face felt like a plaster mask, cracking at the edges. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and the chattering voices of the party guests faded into a dull roar. She had to get away.

She mumbled an excuse and fled to the powder room, the gilded wallpaper seeming to close in on her. She stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes haunted. This wasn't the confident, poised Kelsey Jensen everyone knew. This was a stranger, a woman hollowed out by grief.

As she dried her face, she heard a soft sound from the adjoining sitting room, a room rarely used during parties. A giggle, followed by a low murmur.

Her heart stopped. She knew that murmur.

She pushed the door open a crack. The sitting room was dimly lit, but she could see them clearly. Bennett had Aria pressed against a bookshelf, his mouth devouring hers. It was hungry, possessive.

"That necklace," Aria breathed, her fingers tracing the diamonds at her own throat. "What if Kelsey finds out it's a fake? The one you gave her?"

Bennett laughed, a low, arrogant sound. "Don't worry about it," he murmured against her lips. "She won't. She believes every word I say. And even if she did find out, I'd just tell her I sent it for repairs. What's she going to do? Question me?"

The words were a poisoned blade, twisting in Kelsey's gut. It wasn't just the betrayal. It was the contempt. He saw her as a fool. Pliable, trusting, and easy to deceive. Her love for him had been weaponized, turned into a tool for her own humiliation.

She scrambled back into the powder room, her heart hammering against her ribs. The man she loved didn't respect her. He didn't even see her as an equal. The foundation of their entire life together was built on his perception of her weakness.

She somehow managed to compose herself, to walk back out into the glittering party, the mask of the perfect hostess sliding back into place.

She saw Aria across the room, a triumphant flush on her cheeks. Aria caught her eye and, to Kelsey's shock, made her way over, holding a small plate with a slice of birthday cake.

"Happy birthday, Kelsey," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. The cake was a beautiful mango mousse, decorated with fresh slices of the fruit. Mango. The one thing Kelsey was deathly allergic to.

"Aria thought you'd love this," Bennett said, appearing at her side as if on cue. His smile was tight, a command disguised as a pleasantry. "She went to so much trouble."

Kelsey's insides coiled into a tight, furious knot. She looked at Aria's innocent facade, at Bennett's expectant face, and a horrifying thought struck her, colder and sharper than any betrayal so far: He didn't remember. It wasn't that he was actively trying to kill her. It was worse. He had simply forgotten. Forgotten the frantic hospital visits, the epi-pens, the nights he'd spent watching her breathe just to be sure. That vital, life-or-death piece of information about her had been overwritten, erased to make room for Aria's every whim, her every fake cramp, her every calculated tear. She pushed the plate away. "No, thank you."

"Don't be rude, Kels," Bennett's voice dropped, a hard edge to it now. "It's just a piece of cake. Don't spoil the mood and hurt your sister's feelings."

Sister. The word was a public demotion. Aria's face crumpled theatrically. "Oh, it's my fault," she whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I just wanted to do something nice for my big sister. I'm sorry."

Bennett's expression softened as he looked at Aria, then hardened again as he turned back to Kelsey. He picked up a fork, cut a piece of the cake, and held it out to her. "Eat it," he commanded, his voice low and menacing.

Time seemed to stop. Kelsey stared at the fork, at the vibrant orange fruit. She remembered being nineteen, in a hospital bed, gasping for air after accidentally eating a pastry with mango puree. She remembered Bennett, his face pale with terror, kneeling by her side, slapping his own face in frustration. "I swear to God, Kels," he'd wept, "I will never, ever let anything hurt you again."

Now, he was holding the poison himself, his mind so full of his mistress that there was no space left for his wife's mortality.

A slow, cold calm washed over her. She looked him directly in the eye, took the fork from his hand, and calmly, deliberately, ate the piece of cake. She swallowed the deadly sweetness like a final sacrament, a communion with the death of their love.

Bennett watched her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but his expression quickly relaxed into one of satisfaction. He had won. He turned to Aria, his voice soft again. "See? Everything's fine."

Aria's eyes, gleaming with triumph, met Kelsey's over Bennett's shoulder. Then, she clutched her stomach. "Oh! A cramp," she gasped.

Instantly, Bennett was all concern. He scooped her up into his arms, his face a mask of terror for the baby that didn't exist. "I'm taking you to the hospital," he announced, rushing past Kelsey without a second glance.

Kelsey stood alone in the center of the ballroom as the first wave of anaphylaxis hit, a tightening in her throat, a fire spreading across her skin. No one noticed as she turned and walked out, her steps measured and deliberate, leaving the party and her old life behind.

She took a cab to the nearest emergency room.

"Are you here alone, ma'am?" the triage nurse asked, her eyes full of professional pity as she saw the angry red hives blooming on Kelsey's neck.

"Yes," Kelsey said, her voice a hollow whisper. "I'm fine on my own."

From her curtained-off cubicle, as a doctor administered a shot of epinephrine that made her heart pound, she could see them. Bennett had brought Aria to the same hospital, to a private room down the hall. He was fussing over her, tucking a blanket around her shoulders, his face a picture of tender concern.

He stroked Aria's cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a non-existent tear. "Don't you worry about a thing," he murmured, his voice carrying down the quiet hallway. "I'll take care of everything."

It was a painful echo of the words he had once said to her. The nurses on the floor were whispering, commenting on how devoted he was, what a loving partner he seemed to be.

Kelsey watched them, a spectator to the life that should have been hers. She saw him as he truly was now: a man who didn't just want a replacement, he had already replaced her. He hadn't just forgotten his promise to protect her; he had become the threat himself.

And in that cold, sterile hospital room, Kelsey knew she had to make it official. She had to disappear. For good.