My 29th birthday was a pretty pathetic affair.

I guess I knew that no wish I made would ever come true.

I couldn't even get the damn candles to light.

Chloe posted on Instagram.

The picture was a silhouette of two people embracing, you couldn't see their faces, but it was intimate.

The caption was in French:

"What does she have that I don't? We connect on every level—mind, body, and soul."

Almost all of her posts were in French.

Nobody ever bothered to figure out what they said.

But I understood instantly.

Still, I didn't fly into a rage and confront Ethan.

Instead, I quietly dialed my best friend's number. "Maya, can you draw up the divorce papers for me?"

Ethan didn't come home until the next morning.

"Honey, I was so swamped last night!"

He handed me a gift. "But I didn't forget your birthday."

Yeah, he was swamped.

So swamped he didn't even have time to hide the hickey on his neck.

Ethan knew I was easy to please.

He knew I would never get truly angry over his neglect, that I would always melt back into his performance of affection.

If I hadn't torn back that curtain, maybe we could have gone on like this forever.

But I was tired.

I didn't want to pretend it didn't hurt anymore, to swallow my tears and act like everything was fine.

So I didn't take the gift.

I used to get upset when he didn't make a big enough deal about my birthday.

Now, he could miss it entirely.

I didn't feel a thing.

"Claire, where are you going? Let me give you a ride."

He must have noticed something was off about my expression, because he offered to drive me.

But the moment I opened the car door, I saw it—a stray condom wrapper under the passenger seat.

I froze for a second, shocked that he could be so careless.

To just leave the evidence of his mistake right there for me to find.

I could see the panic in Ethan’s eyes.

He quickly moved to block my view. "Honey, the passenger seat is a little dirty, why don't you sit in the back."

I pretended I hadn't seen a thing and did as he asked, sliding into the back seat.

Ethan let out a tiny, almost invisible sigh of relief.

But just then, his phone rang.

He instinctively glanced at me in the rearview mirror before switching from English to fluent French.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Is your wife there with you?"

"Yeah."

"No wonder you left so early this morning. You were rushing to go be with her."

"Come on, don't be like that. It was her birthday yesterday, I had to make an appearance."

Ethan's heart melted hearing her pout and whine.

He quickly softened his tone. "Okay, okay. You know you're the one I love."

"If I had met you first, she wouldn't even be in the picture."

Chloe was still upset, demanding to see him.

Her voice cracked like she was about to cry. "If you don't come see me right now, I'm never speaking to you again!"

Ethan pulled the car over to the side of the road.

After he hung up, he turned to me, his face a mask of guilt. "Claire, I am so, so sorry."

"A client Chloe was handling just had a major issue pop up. I have to go take care of it."

He didn't even blink when he lied.

I never knew he could be such a convincing actor when it came to this.

And who was I to stand in his way?

As the car disappeared down the street, I just stood there, feeling completely lost.

I had never seen Ethan in such a rush for anything.

Not even the nineteen-year-old version of him would have ever done something like that for me.

All Chloe had to do was shed a few tears.

And Ethan would run every red light in the city just to get to her.

I never wanted to compete with her.

I just decided I was done.

Everyone knew Claire Hayes was mild-mannered and never lost her temper.

But no one knew how stubborn I could be.

When faced with betrayal, I would never, ever look back.