He had never felt so powerless.
Chapter 1
NewYork City, oneyear later
“When did you take these?” Heather asked. Her index finger shook as she swiped through the grainy photos on Carly’s phone.
“Last night,” Carly glowered. Her cheeks were pale under her freckles, as if she’d barely slept, and her red curls seemed to vibrate with rage. “He’s lucky I didn’t march over there and tear him a new asshole.”
Heather tried to swallow the dread in her throat as she leaned closer, squinting at the images. The lighting was dim, and the angle wasn’t ideal, but even so, there was no mistaking it: That was Jack. And nestled in next to him in the plump restaurant booth, gazing adoringly up at him as his hand gripped her waist, was—
“Melissa?” Heather’s mouth stumbled over the other woman’s name, like her tongue and lips had gone slightly numb. A mild spring breeze wafted through the open windows, but the livingroom felt airless, and Heather felt her toes starting to tingle with panic, as if the pale blue walls were closing in.
“Melissa,” Carly confirmed. “He isn’t just cheating; he’s cheating with a fetus. She’s a decade younger than us.”
Heather shook her head, trying to make sense of what she saw. Jack loved her, had loved her for years. He had proposed to her in front of a packed house at Lincoln Center, for God’s sake. What the hell was going on?
“Maybe it’s not what it looks like?” Heather said, raising her eyes to Carly’s scowling face. “I mean...this is just dinner, and it’s just one photo, it’s...,” she trailed off helplessly. Tears swam in her eyes, and through the blur, she saw Carly’s scowl tighten, then instantly soften.
“Heather,” Carly said in a quiet, determined voice, “I was there. I hid behind a planter and watched them for half an hour. It wasn’t just dinner. They’re definitely...there’s definitely something going on.”
Heather squeezed her eyes shut, and tears skipped down her cheeks. “I don’t understand,” she practically pleaded. She hated the desperation in her own voice. “He said he was ready to commit.”
Sure, it had taken him a few extra years to propose, but she’d wanted him to be sure when he popped the question. And when he finally did it, he reallydid it. Yes, she had seen him flirt with other women, had watched the way he charmed the wealthy socialites who lined up to meet him at the company’s donor events. But as he always reminded her, that was just part of the job. It wasn’t real. What was real wasthem. Jack and Heather. What was real was this apartment they shared and their lazy Sunday mornings strolling through the flea market on West Seventy-Seventh Street. The way he looked at her during a curtain call, like he hadn’t even noticed the fifteen hundred applauding ballet fans in front of them.
Heather glanced around the spacious living room, looking anywhere but at Carly and her phone. Across the room, a framed black-and-white photo of a shirtless Jack loomed on the wall, thedeep-cut grid of his six-pack thrown into sharp relief as he hit the peak of a picture-perfect cabriole jump. It had been part of a shoot they’d done together a few years ago, a glossy profile forVogue. The headline had proclaimed them “America’s Ballet Sweethearts.”
Panicked questions chased each other around her head. How long had he been sneaking around with Melissa? Who else in the company knew? Heather forced herself to look at the photo of the gorgeous corps member pressed against her fiancé, and at the expression on Jack’s handsome, angular face. With a stab of anguish, she realized he was giving Melissa his curtain-call look. Heather thought she might faint.
“What did I do wrong?” she whispered to herself.
“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Carly exclaimed, dropping the phone and handing her a box of tissues. “If anything...,” she trailed off, but Heather didn’t need to hear the end of her sentence.
If anything, Carly had been about to say, Heather’s only mistake was saying yes to going home with Jack all those years ago. Carly had never been Jack’s biggest fan, and the feeling was mutual. But then, Heather thought, Carly had unreasonably high standards for men, which was probably why she hadn’t settled down with anyone yet.
“I can’t believe he’d really do this,” Heather said, wiping the tissue over her exhausted face. Flirting with donors was one thing, but actually cheating? With a member of the company? “He promised we’d set a date soon.”
Heather’s whole body still ached from last night’s performance and from the accumulated fatigue of the eight-week spring season. She had come home from the theater and fallen into bed, while Jack had gone out with some of the guys from the company—or so he’d told her. When she’d woken up this morning his side of the bed had been empty, and a brief text message, sent at 1:07AM, informed her he was going to crash with one of his friends.
Misery twisted her stomach as she pictured the blissful look on Melissa’s round face, so young and smitten, so delighted to be atthe center of Jack’s attention. Heather knew that feeling well. At the beginning, she had basked in it, had almost felt herself grow more beautiful and more captivating in the light of his piercing blue gaze. Jack Andersen, international ballet royalty, the son of a Danish ballet star and his statuesque American ballerina wife....When he looked at you, when he smiled at you, it was like you were caught in a glowing spotlight. Blinded to everything but his sleek golden-brown hair and the charming, boyish way he cocked his head.
“Maybe I didn’t give him enough time? Maybe the thought of wedding planning has been freaking him out? Maybe I wasn’t patient enough?”Maybe, a cold-as-steel voice whispered in the back of her head,you always knew he would do this. Maybe you always knew you weren’t enough.
“What are you talking about?” Carly demanded, rolling her eyes. “Heaskedyouto marry him. And on the night you got promoted to principal. You have been plenty patient. Way more patient than he deserves.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heather asked, rising off the couch, her pulse quickening. Her knees cracked as she stood, and she felt last night’s pas de deux throb in her lower back.
“He kept you waiting for that ring forages.” Carly gestured emphatically at Heather’s left hand, sounding exasperated.
“I know, but he wanted to be sure. We both did. Marriage is a massive commitment.”
“Yeah, one he’s clearly not serious about,” Carly retorted.
“That’s not true.” Heather ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.
“Heather, come on. He’s dragged his feet for years, first on proposing and now on setting a date, and he’s been using the time to mess around with someone we work with!” Carly stood too, knocking one of Jack’s white cashmere throw pillows to the floor. “Do you honestly think you can ever trust him now?”
“I don’t know,” Heather shot back. Her heart was pounding, and spiky tendrils of anger crawled from her stomach into her chest. “Iknow he’s not perfect, but he loves me. And I know he’s not your favorite person—” Carly snorted. Heather ignored her. “—but it’s not like I’m perfect, either.”
