Ethan walked through the front door at 3:17 like nothing in the house had changed.

I was in the kitchen pretending to wipe down the already clean counter when his key turned. My heart slammed so hard I felt it in my throat. Marcus was somewhere upstairs. I had spent the morning trying to scrub the smell of him off my skin and failing.

“Surprise,” Ethan said, dropping his bag by the door. He looked tired but happy. The same soft smile he always gave me. He crossed the kitchen and kissed my cheek. Ordinary. Warm. Wrong.

“Hey,” I managed. “How was the flight?”

“Long. Missed you.” He pulled back...