Kira sat propped up on the hospital bed, her left leg stuck out in a bulky white cast like an annoying decoration. She was flipping through a magazine without really reading it when the door opened.
It had been over twenty-four hours since she'd refused to see Derek or let him anywhere near her room. Part of her kept wondering if she was being too harsh or too dramatic.
But every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again — Ruby on his lap, their mouths locked together. The image refused to leave her alone.
She turned a page she had not read.
It was an open marriage. She knew that going in. She had signed the same contract he had, and nowhere in that contract had either of them used the word love or made any promises about forever.
She had no claim on him that the world would recognise as real.
Except that they had promised each other fidelity. That specific thing, just that one thing, and she had believed it meant something. She had let herself believe it.
