Chapter 1: The Last Bracelet

After getting engaged to Ethan Caldwell, I became an expert at spotting his latest flings—always with a new scent of perfume or a flash of unfamiliar lipstick. In Maple Heights, nothing stayed secret for long, least of all the Caldwells’ drama.

But on my birthday, the universe went all-in on cruelty. Ethan slipped away to answer a call, and right on cue, another one of his women materialized. The scent of buttercream and champagne clung to the air, the hum of conversation replaced by the buzz of incoming texts. The guests’ chatter died down, replaced by a heavy silence.

Suddenly, exhaustion hit me—not just tired, but a bone-deep fatigue that made my eyes sting and my body ache to disappear. I fiddled with the gold bracelet on my wrist, the one Ethan had fastened there at our engagement party, every eye in Maple Heights watching.

Slowly, I unclasped the bracelet. My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the clasp. Was this surrender, or the first real choice I’d made in years? I slipped the bracelet onto the other woman’s arm. Her skin was cool, her arm trembling under my touch. For a split second, I imagined all of Maple Heights’ silent expectations pressing down on that slender wrist instead of mine.

"Ma’am, you know Ethan’s gonna lose it if you go through with this." His assistant’s voice was urgent, a little desperate, like he knew he’d take the blame if this exploded. He looked ready to step between us, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

I just smiled, turned, and walked away. A woman in a sequined dress whispered, not even trying to hide her smirk. I straightened my spine and let the door close behind me. For the first time in years, I felt almost weightless. My heels clicked across the marble floor, echoing louder than the gossip swirling behind me.

Ethan always hated that I clung to the title of Mrs. Caldwell. It wasn’t the bracelet or the women—it was my stubbornness, my refusal to let Maple Heights see me fall. But this time, I was done. And Ethan didn’t come looking for me. He smashed the bracelet in front of everyone and announced, "If Lauren doesn’t want to be Mrs. Caldwell, there are plenty of others who do."

The brittle crack of gold on tile was the only apology I’d ever get. Ethan looked as untouchable as ever, arms folded, pride unshaken. But weeks passed, and the town’s rumor mill dried up. No new Mrs. Caldwell. Just speculation, and my name slipping out of their mouths for once.

Until I ran into Ethan again at an auction, still as proud as ever, shoving a new, obscenely expensive bracelet into my hands—a cold, unfamiliar thing that felt like an apology I never wanted.