I landed a job.

Front desk at a five-star hotel in the Financial District. The position came with a decent salary, a full benefits package, and a staff apartment on the twenty-second floor. From my floor-to-ceiling window, I could see the entire city skyline.

I stood in the doorway of my studio unit for a long time after I first walked in.

It felt good. I didn't have to wait for anyone to come home anymore.

Five days later, my mother called.

"Bradley actually jumped into the river."

I gripped my phone, watching the traffic below crawl across the overpass like glowing fireflies.

"If the local polar bear club hadn't pulled him out, he’d be dead. Aren't you going to check on him?"

"No."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Where are you living now? Just come home. You just had that miscarriage, your hormones are all over the place—let me take care of you."

"I found a job. It includes housing and meals."

"But your health hasn't recovered."

"I’m a receptionist at a luxury hotel," I said, catching my reflection in the glass. My uniform was pressed, and my hair was pinned back in a meticulous, professional bun. "I’m not tired. I can take care of myself."

The only thing I was tired of was the emotional weight. Now that I had finally left Bradley Lawrence, I could breathe.

I hung up.

After my night shift, I headed back to the apartment and scrolled through my feed. A candid photo was going viral. Bradley was lying in a hospital bed, his face ashen, his lips cracked and dry, his eyes sunken into deep, dark sockets.

Lacey Rose was sitting by the bedside, wiping him down.

The comments were relentless:

"Heard he jumped into the river on that day it hit 14 degrees Fahrenheit. Spent five minutes in the ice water before he was hauled out. He’s got pneumonia and hypothermia; he nearly didn't make it."

"Lacey’s been guarding his bed for three days and three nights. If that’s not true love, then what was his ex-wife to him?"

"What was she? A joke. Bradley cheated with Lacey for three years. His wife leaves right after a miscarriage, he turns around and jumps into a river for sympathy, and his wife doesn't even show up. Now the mistress has taken his place."

"The guys from his law firm were outside the room laughing at him. He didn't get his wife back, he ruined his reputation, destroyed his health, and ended up with nothing."

"Rumor has it the first thing he asked when he woke up was, 'Where’s my wife?' Lacey started crying right there."

"He deserves it. Should’ve thought about that sooner."

I locked my phone. Outside, the city lights flickered, the metropolis breathing in a quiet, steady rhythm.

***

After Bradley regained consciousness, he scrolled through his social media feed. His face darkened. He looked up at Lacey.

"Did you post these?"

Her smile stiffened. "What?"

His voice was cold. "Besides you, who else would have been able to get these photos?"

Lacey’s eyes welled up with red-rimmed tears. "Bradley, I’ve stayed by your side for three days and nights, and this is how you interrogate me the moment you wake up?"

"You posted these to show the world that you’ve finally secured your spot?"

Lacey’s face went pale.

"Bradley, what is that supposed to mean?" She began to sob. "You almost died in that river. Did she even come to look at you once? I was the one who stayed, who took care of you. And this is how you treat me?"

Bradley looked up, his gaze as cold as frost.

"She did come."

Lacey froze. "What?"

"She came back. That day—the day I pulled you in to kiss you? She was right there in the elevator."

Lacey’s face drained of all color.

"She watched me kiss you," Bradley muttered, his lip curling in a self-deprecating sneer. "She watched me hold you, watched me pull you into the car. She saw us."

He stopped, unable to continue.

Lacey stepped back, trembling. "Bradley, are you feeling sorry for her?"

"Wasn't it you who said, 'At worst, we just get a divorce'?"

"Enough."

He cut her off, closing his eyes.

Lacey stared at him for a few seconds before she suddenly let out a hysterical laugh, tears streaming down her face. "Bradley Lawrence, do you have any conscience at all? I’ve been with you for three years!"

He opened his eyes and stared at her.

"You’ve been with me for three years. But she spent seven years with me."

Lacey bit her lip, her tears falling. "So what? She doesn't want you anymore, does she?"

Bradley watched her in silence, his expression making Lacey’s skin crawl.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I’m just wondering," he whispered. "Was I blind for those three years?"

Lacey’s composure shattered completely.

"Bradley Lawrence, you’re a bastard!"

She grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The hospital room went quiet. He opened his eyes, pulled out his phone, and tapped on the chat window with Wesley Cole.

"Tell me what happened the day she came back."

The "typing" indicator flickered for a long time. Then, a long, heavy message popped up.