Chapter 1: The Marriage Certificate

Isla Farrow's expression darkened. She stared at me for a long moment, then raked her fingers through her hair in frustration.

"What are you talking about? Nate, can you calm down for once? You're always so emotional. Damien is my sponsored student. He's ten years younger than me. There's nothing going on between us. What exactly are you making up in your head?"

But the irritation on her face actually calmed me down. I let her go on for a while before I finally spoke.

"I'm making things up?

"You stood me up on our anniversary to be with Damien. You spent my birthday with Damien. You even had him take you to your prenatal appointments. Isla, do you honestly think I'm stupid?

"Forget it. I'm done. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

I closed my eyes, stood up, and headed for the bedroom. Isla didn't follow. She just stood there watching me walk away, and I didn't hear her voice until I was in the doorway, about to shut the door.

"You're getting older and you overthink everything. I'm not going to hold it against you. Just take some time to cool off."

Right. It was my fault again.

Ever since Isla started sponsoring Damien Calder, the fights between us had been constant. And every single time, it ended the same way, with Isla playing the bigger person and telling me to calm down.

I slammed the door shut, sat down on the bed, and couldn't stop the tears from falling. I kept thinking about it. If I hadn't found that marriage certificate, how long would the two of them have kept it from me?

Isla had brought up postponing our wedding because she was showing. I'd assumed it was vanity, but it turned out she'd already married Damien, so of course she needed to push ours back.

I didn't know how long I sat there. The sky outside gradually went dark, and by the time I wiped my face, my whole body was stiff. When I finally walked out of the bedroom, the apartment was empty.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Damien.

I gripped it tight, thought for a second, then picked up. There was loud noise on the other end, and Damien sounded panicked.

"Nate, you need to get down here. Isla got into a fight with someone!"

He hung up before I could say anything and texted me an address, a bar called The Vesper.

It wasn't until I stepped outside that I realized it was already 1:00 am, and Damien, who was supposed to be off volunteering in an underserved community, was at a bar downtown.

I got there 15 minutes later, my head spinning with questions. The place was a mess, and the staff had already cleared the crowd out.