I stood there and watched them empty our bedroom. Watched them move Vivian's things into the room that had been ours. Our home. Our bed.
My heart cooled, degree by degree.
Then my phone buzzed. A notification from a bargain-shopping app, linked through Naomi's profile page. I tapped through, scrolling idly.
And there it was. The exact same bracelet on my wrist. Listed at $9.99. Fake gold.
My skull hummed with a high-pitched ringing. Ten years. Ten years of love, and in Benedict's eyes, all I was worth was a $9.99 knockoff.
That night, grief over losing my child consumed me, and I spiked a high fever.
"Water... I need water..."
No one answered.
I forced myself up to pour a glass, but the bedroom door was wide open.
Vivian's cheeks were flushed. "Lawrence is full now, but my chest is so swollen it hurts... Benedict, could you..."
Benedict leaned down. "Sure."
The door closed. The sounds that followed seeped through the walls.
Like someone was carving a hole straight through my heart.
I thought of the first time Benedict kissed me, his face red with embarrassment. "Phoebe, can I kiss you?"
Now he was touching another woman.
Somewhere in my feverish haze, a large hand pressed against my forehead.