Part 3Summer Farewell

The news was a constant stream of updates on the disaster in the mountains.

Lily had signed up as a volunteer, working alongside the two brothers to aid in the rescue and rebuilding efforts. A reporter somehow got wind of their childhood connection, and suddenly, the three of them—working together, caring for each other—became the new media darlings.

Cameras followed them everywhere, live-streaming their every move. The brothers, usually private people who shunned the spotlight, were persuaded by Lily to smile for the cameras. The internet went wild.

They were a trio of perfect, shippable combinations. Fan groups sprouted up, churning out daily content. The actual disaster became a footnote to their love triangle.

At first, Joanna tried to shield me from it all, worried it would affect my recovery. But she was a terrible liar. Who stares at their phone with a murderous rage while "casually browsing"?

I snatched a look when she wasn't paying attention and saw the three of them, side-by-side, giving an interview in front of a relief tent.

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. The pain in my abdomen had faded to a dull, numb ache.

Joanna came in with my dinner and saw what I was watching. Her face flushed with a mixture of pity and anger.

"Those three bastards! Wasting resources during a disaster! Who watches the news for this soap opera crap?"

"I'm calling the station to complain!"

I put a hand on hers, stopping her. "Don't," I said, my voice weak. "It doesn't matter anymore. Really."

Maybe my love for him had died quietly during those six months of pregnancy, with every unanswered call, every ignored text. What kind of marriage required my elderly parents to make excuses for my husband?

Joanna looked at my stoic face and turned off the live stream. The screen reverted to her call log, where her furious divorce threats to her husband lay unanswered.

Both brothers had changed their profile pictures to a shot from that interview, the three of them together.

I managed a hollow laugh and took the food from her.

Every day after that, Joanna and I took turns calling them, our single message the same: divorce.

But the calls never went through.

On the seventh day, Joanna stared at the disconnected call screen, a vein throbbing in her temple.

I forced a bitter smile. "Maybe the cell towers are down. We can wait a few more days. What's a few more days, right?" After all, I had already wasted three years.

But Joanna was done waiting. She borrowed a nurse's phone and dialed Nick's number again.

This time, surprisingly, he answered.

Hearing his familiar voice, a dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My eyes were too raw to produce any more tears. All that was left was the pain.

Three years of marriage, and it had come to this: being blocked.

I took a breath and spoke, my voice cold. "Nick, when you get back, let me know. We're getting a divorce. And tell your brother—he's getting one, too."

His voice shot up, sharp and incredulous. "What is wrong with you? Hasn't a week been long enough for you to cool down? Don't you watch the news? I'm in the middle of something important! Lily is out here helping with a sprained ankle, and you're what? Pregnant? You expect me to treat you like a queen?"

"I'm busy. I don't have time to deal with your mood swings! If it's hormones, take a pill!"

Before I could reply, I heard Lily scream on his end, followed by the thud of a phone hitting the ground.

Nick's voice was trembling. "Lily? What happened?"

"It's nothing! Just an ant on my shoe! It startled me!" Her voice was cloyingly sweet. "Was that Jessica? I'm so jealous. No one's called to check on me this whole time…"

Nick chuckled, his voice dripping with affection. "Silly girl. Haven't I been right here with you?"

I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob. But the humiliation and despair were relentless, seeping into the raw, gaping wound of my heart.

Joanna snatched the phone from me, her other hand gently rubbing my chest, trying to calm me.