---- Chapter 4 4 Chloe linked her arm through Ethan's, pulling him through the crowded restaurant. "Let me show you everything, Ethan! It's exactly how we pictured it, remember?" She chattered about the decor, the menu, the chef she'd poached from a Michelin-starred place. Ethan listened, rapt, nodding, his eyes shining with pride. For her. "And this bar," Chloe gestured dramatically, "we designed this on a napkin at that little cafe in Paris, remember? After that awful meeting with your father's bankers?" Ethan chuckled. "You spilled coffee all over the first draft." "And you redrew it perfectly!" Chloe squeezed his arm. "You always knew what | wanted." He did. He remembered every detail of her dreams, her whims. He looked at a specific corner booth. "That's where you said you'd have your 'power lunch' table." Chloe giggled. "I was ten!" "But you were serious," Ethan said, his voice soft. "You wanted a place where you felt in charge." He looked at her, his expression full of admiration. "| always wanted to help you build it, Chlo. Even if it was just mixing the cocktails behind the bar." ---- His offer hung in the air. A promise from their youth, now reiterated. Chloe's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Don't be silly, Ethan. You're a top lawyer. You can't be my bartender." But her eyes held a different message. A flicker of calculation. She knew her power over him. | trailed behind them, invisible. A ghost at their private party. Ethan's gaze never left Chloe. He was entirely absorbed in her, in her triumph. It was like | wasn't even there. We finally sat down. Ethan ordered champagne. "To Chloe's success!" Chloe turned to me, her smile a little too bright. "Ava, you're so quiet. What will you have to eat? Ethan, what does Ava like?" The question hung in the air. Ethan looked blank for a moment. He actually looked blank. "Uh," he stammered, "I'm not sure. Ava? What do you feel like?" He gestured vaguely at the menu in front of me, already turning back to Chloe. He didn't know. After three years of marriage, he didn't know my favorite foods. He knew Chloe wanted her steak medium-rare with extra béarnaise, no fries, side salad with lemon vinaigrette. He'd ordered it for her a hundred times. ---- But me? | was a blank slate. The pain was a physical thing, a tightening in my chest, a knot in my stomach. My hands clenched in my lap, nails digging into my palms. | bit the inside of my lip to stop it from trembling. "Excuse me," | mumbled, pushing my chair back. "| need some air." Chloe followed me to the restroom. Of course, she did. She leaned against the marble countertop, watching me in the mirror as | splashed cold water on my face. "He really doesn't know you at all, does he?" she said, her voice syrupy sweet. "It's impressive, really. How little of an impression you've made." | straightened up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "What do you want, Chloe?" "Want?" She feigned surprise. "| have everything | want. Ethan's devotion. My dream restaurant. Success." She stepped closer, her reflection looming beside mine. "He loves me, Ava. He always has. He always will. You were just a... a placeholder. A comfortable, convenient stopgap." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't you think it's time you gracefully bowed out? Before you embarrass yourself further?" A direct hit. A declaration of war. Just then, a loud crash echoed from the dining room. Screams. My heart leaped into my throat. ---- Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. Chloe's eyes widened. We both ran out. Chaos. A huge, ornate light fixture, custom-made, had detached from the ceiling. It was swinging precariously, then it fell. Right towards the table where Ethan... where we had been sitting. Chloe was slightly ahead of me. Ethan saw it. His eyes locked on Chloe. In that split second, he moved. He lunged, shoving Chloe hard. She stumbled, falling clear. He didn't even glance my way. | was directly in the path of the falling debris. A searing pain in my head. Darkness. Then, nothing. | woke up slowly. Throbbing head. Stinging cuts. The world was blurry. | was on the floor. People were shouting. Through a haze, | saw Ethan. He was kneeling beside Chloe, who was sobbing hysterically, though she looked unharmed. He was cradling her, murmuring reassurances, shielding her ---- from the surrounding chaos, from the eyes of the other patrons. "It's okay, Chloe, I'm here. You're safe." He didn't see me. Or if he did, he didn't react. My vision tunneled. The last thing | saw was Ethan, his back to me, completely focused on Chloe. Then, blackness again. When | opened my eyes next, | was in a hospital bed. Alone. The pain in my head was a dull, constant ache. My arm was bandaged. Stitches. A concussion, the nurse told me later. Deep cuts from the glass. | fumbled for my phone. The ledger. My hand was shaking so badly | could barely type. "Restaurant accident. Saved Chloe, ignored me. -15 points." Total: -75. A nurse bustled in. "Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling, dear?" She saw my phone. "Still working? You're a dedicated one." She noticed the screen. "Breaking Point Ledger? Points? What's that, some kind of game?" Her eyes scanned the entries. "Minus 75 points... getting close to the end, are we?" She chuckled, thinking it was a joke. | didn't smile. ---- Just then, the door opened. Ethan. He heard the nurse's last words. "...getting close to the end, are we?" He looked from the nurse to me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.