TOWARD THE DISTANCE Chapter 2

Cade came home after ten that night, carrying a bouquet of white lilies — Elena's favorite flower. He held them out with an easy grin.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Work's been insane lately. I haven't had a second to breathe." He leaned in close, brushing his lips against her forehead. "I got you your lilies. Do you like them?"

Elena breathed in and caught it immediately: a woman's perfume, layered underneath his cologne. Something sweet and heavy. And on the collar of his shirt — so small it might have been nothing — a smear of red lipstick.

She said nothing.

"Hey," Cade said, noticing her silence. "What's wrong? You're not saying anything."

"Just tired."

"Then let me carry you to bed."

He started to bend down, reaching for her, and she stepped back. "You're tired too. Go take a shower. Get some rest."

He paused, surprised. Then he reached for her hand — and stopped.

"Elena. Where's your ring?"

She didn't flinch. "I took it off."

"But I made that ring. It's proof of us. Why would you take it off?"

"I've gained a little weight recently. It doesn't fit anymore."

Cade's face softened with relief. He smiled again — that warm, easy smile that had once made her feel like the safest person in the world. "Then I'll take it to a jeweler. Get it resized."

"We can talk about it later."

"Oh — what's this?" He spotted the jewelry box on the table. His eyebrows lifted, and something genuinely childlike flickered across his face. "Elena, is this for me? A gift?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Inside that box was the melted remains of their wedding ring. But Cade didn't know that yet.

"Is today a special occasion?" he asked, already beaming. "You actually went out and bought me something? What did I do to deserve this?"

Elena's stomach dropped another inch.

"Today," she said, very quietly, "is our wedding anniversary."

The color drained from Cade's face.

For one raw second, the mask slipped. She could see the guilt underneath — sharp and real and immediate. Then he pulled himself together and stepped toward her, reaching out.

"Elena, I am so sorry. I completely lost track — work has been —" He was already pulling out his phone. "Let me find a restaurant. Right now. We can still —"

"I already ate."

"Then let's go for a walk. The river. Remember how we used to —"

"I'm tired. I want to sleep."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on top of her head. "Come on. We haven't walked together in so long. I feel like you've been pulling away from me lately. I'm starting to worry."

Am I the one pulling away?

You're the one who left first. Your heart left before mine did. And now I'm going to take mine back — all of it — and I'm going to take myself with it.

On the drive to the river, Cade kept the conversation going. He talked about something that had happened at lunch, a funny story about one of his board members, a new restaurant he wanted to try. Elena stared out the passenger window and heard none of it.

Because when she'd buckled her seatbelt, her hand had brushed against the gap in the seat cushion. And she'd felt something soft and thin.

She pulled it out just enough to confirm what it was. A woman's stocking. Clearly worn. Clearly left behind by someone who had been sitting — or doing something else — in this exact seat.

Elena tucked it back into the cushion and said nothing.

There was no point confronting him. She had already made her decision. Confrontation would only give him a chance to lie, and she was done listening to his lies.

At the river, Cade jumped out of the car first and jogged around to open her door, one hand hovering protectively over the roof so she wouldn't bump her head. Strangers on the path noticed and whispered to each other.

"That's that guy from TV. The one who makes his own wedding ring."

"Oh my God, look at him. He won't even let her bump her head."

"That is the sweetest thing I have ever seen in my life."

Elena walked beside him in silence, her face perfectly blank.

Cade's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and something shifted in his expression — a flicker of something he couldn't quite hide. Excitement, maybe. Or guilt about being excited.

"Sorry," he said. "Work. Give me five minutes."

"Go ahead."

"Stay right here. Don't move, okay?"

More whispers from the crowd.

"He's terrified she'll wander off. He's treating her like a princess."

Elena watched him walk away, phone pressed to his ear. She could see his face from here. The way his shoulders relaxed the moment he thought she wasn't looking. The way the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

That wasn't a work call.

She didn't chase the thought. It didn't matter anymore.

The river wind was cold. Elena walked back to the car and climbed in.

The dashboard screen glowed to life automatically, synced to Cade's phone. His social media app was still open — still logged in, the chat window right there on the screen.

The contact name read: 【Little Greedy Cat Jing】

Cade: Miss me?

Little Greedy Cat Jing: It's lonely without you at night.

Cade: You greedy little thing. I spoiled you seven times today and it's still not enough?

Little Greedy Cat Jing: Not enough. I want more, big brother.

Cade: Fine. Tomorrow at work. The office. I'll take care of you.

Little Greedy Cat Jing: Hehehe. Then I'll wear my black stockings tomorrow.

The messages after that got worse. Much worse. Elena read three more lines before she closed the screen entirely.

She sat in the dark car, her hands shaking so badly that her fingernails left crescent-shaped marks in her own palms. She couldn't tell if it was rage or cold. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe it was just the feeling of watching the last thread between herself and the man she'd spent fifteen years loving finally snap.

Cade came back quickly — fifteen minutes at most. He opened the car door and dropped into the driver's seat with a relieved exhale, one hand pressed to his chest.

"I turned around and you were gone. I panicked." He looked at her, scanning her face with something that looked like genuine worry. "You okay? You're not hurt?"

Elena kept her eyes on her own hands. "It was cold. I came back to the car."

"Of course. Wherever you're comfortable, that's where I want you to be."

Elena looked up at him.

Wherever you're comfortable.

That sentence, in the context of everything she'd just read, suddenly took on a different shape entirely. The stocking in the passenger seat. The chat messages. The casual, practiced way he talked about satisfying Lily in his office, on his rooftop, in his own car —

Had they done it here? In this car? In the passenger seat, right where Elena sat every single day?

The nausea hit her like a wave. She shoved the car door open and threw up on the pavement.