1
ASH
MARCH PRESENT DAY
My entire life, I’ve longed for someone to make me their priority. I wanted to be chosen, not because they felt obligated, but because they couldn’t stand to live without me. When I walked down the aisle the day of my wedding, all I could think wasfinally.He didn’thaveto buy me a ring. He didn’thaveto get down on one knee. He didn’thaveto stick around.
But Casey did.
Now, I sit across from the same man while he tries to explain how he could possibly choose someone else over me. It’d almost be comical if he wasn’t blowing up my life with every word.
Almost.
“Ashton, did you hear me?”
I snap out of my daze, looking up from the dark cherry desk to the man I’ve spent the last five years building a life with. He runs a hand through his perfectly swept, light brown hair.
“I’m not sure? Did you really call me into your office in the middle of the workday to tell me you’re leaving me foryour receptionist?” Blood rushes to my ears. “Nowof all times?”
He exhales, adjusting his navy-blue suit jacket. It’s the one I picked up from the dry cleaners yesterday.
BecauseIpick up his dry cleaning.
Not her.
No, she’s probably busy fucking my husband while I run his errands.
His normally pale skin, now sun-kissed from a recent work trip to the Keys, flushes red. “I just wanted you to know the truth. It’s not that I don’t love you, I do. I?—”
“Love her more?”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He spins his chair to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. The view from the fifth level of this building is breath taking. Puffy white clouds float through the ocean of sky. In the movies, bad days always take place in the middle of a thunderstorm or during overcast at the very least—not in the midst of clear skies and sunshine. What a perfect backdrop for the worst day of my life.
When he turns back, his vacant eyes fall on me. I used to love the way he looked at me—like I was the most captivating person he’d ever seen.
Something flickers in Casey’s whiskey-colored irises anytime he catches a glimpse of something he has to have. It happened when we went to the dealership and picked out his brand-new cherry-red Porsche, and it happened when we locked eyes for the first time. It was one of the things that made it so easy to fall for him in the first place.
Who doesn’t want to feel like you’ve changed someone’s life just by existing?
He’s not looking at me like that now, though. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
My brows raise. “Well, I guess there’s nothing else to say, is there?”
He fidgets with a pen.
“Where’s your ring?”
For the first time since we got married, he’s not wearing it. Did he take it off this morning? Or was it right before he decided to call me in here? Is it tucked away in his desk drawer? Has he been taking it off every time he has sex with her behind my back?
His eyes snap up, and a crease forms between his brows. “Why would I keep it on?”
He says it like it was a silly question, and I guess maybe it was, but damn… Who takes their ring off before they ask for a divorce? Doesn’t that feel like something that should come after?
I spin my gaudy-ass ring around my finger.
When he proposed, I was so in love he could have done it with a zip tie, and I’d have said yes. But the ring he bought me is too big, over the top, and not my style. I never admitted that even to myself until now, but I hate the stupid thing. It feels like it’s burning through my flesh.
Sliding it off, I toss it at him like it might bite me.
