Close enough to watch him fall

CHAPTER ONE

RAVEN’S POV

I sat on the cold bathroom floor with my phone clutched in both hands that wouldn't stop shaking. I pressed Jessica's number and waited through two rings that felt like forever.

"I need to leave him," I said the moment she answered, my voice coming out flat. "I need a divorce."

"What? Raven, what happened?"

The words stuck in my throat, but I forced them out. "He's married. He's already married to someone else."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not his wife," I said, staring at the tile grout between my feet. "I never was. I'm just…nothing."

"Where are you? I'm coming right now."

"No, not yet." I pressed my forehead against my knees. "I need to think. I need to figure out what to do."

"Raven..."

"I'll call you later. I promise." I hung up before she could argue.

I pulled myself up using the sink and looked in the mirror. My eyes were swollen and red, and my face looked drained of color. The woman staring back at me was a stranger, and I couldn't understand how I'd missed this for so long.

It started yesterday at the grocery store when I ran into Claire; sweet, bubbly Claire from the community center. We'd become friends over the past few months through coffee dates and long conversations about our lives, our husbands, our dreams for the future. She'd mentioned her husband Jason before, talking about how he traveled constantly for work and how she wished he'd come home more, how they'd been married for five years but she still felt lonely.

Yesterday, she pulled out her phone to show me a photo from their anniversary dinner last week, smiling in that proud way new wives do. And there he was: Conrad, my Conrad, with his arm wrapped around Claire's shoulders, grinning at the camera like he had every right to be there.

The store tilted sideways. Claire asked if I was okay. I mumbled something about feeling dizzy, left my cart in the middle of the aisle, and drove home with my hands locked on the steering wheel.

I thought about every conversation I'd had with her. All those times Claire talked about Jason, how he was never home, how she wished he'd make more time for her. I'd comforted her through all of it, given her marriage advice about my own husband without even knowing it.

When I got home, I tore through everything: his office drawers, his closet, the pockets of jackets he never wore. I found the second phone hidden in his gym bag, tucked inside a pocket I'd never noticed before. My hands shook as I turned it on, and the messages loaded slowly, each one another knife to my chest.

Messages from Claire filled the screen. "Miss you." "Can't wait until you're home." "I love you." And his responses, all signed with that other name. Jason.

I scrolled back further, and wedding photos appeared one after another. Claire in