By the time the plane took off, Adrian had called me seventeen times.

I turned my phone to airplane mode.

For the first time in five years, I didn’t feel guilty for ignoring him.

I looked out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds and tried to understand why I wasn’t crying.

Maybe because something inside me had finally become exhausted.

Not angry.

Not heartbroken.

Just finished.

Hours later, when we landed in Helsinki, my phone exploded with notifications.

Adrian.

Jason.

Two other friends.

And, surprisingly, Vanessa.

Her message was the shortest.

“You shouldn’t have left like that.”

I stared at it.

Then another message arrived.

“You embarrassed Adrian in front of everyone.”

I laughed.

Of course.

I had lost my anniversary trip.

Had my reservation stolen.

Had been publicly treated like an obstacle.

But somehow, I had embarrassed him.

I blocked her.

Then Adrian’s messages appeared.

“Sophie, answer me.”

“You canceled MY ticket.”

“Do you understand how much trouble you’ve caused?”

“We need to talk about your behavior when you get back.”

And finally:

“Don’t do anything stupid in Finland.”

That one made me stop.

Because beneath the anger, there was something else.

Fear.

Why was Adrian afraid of me being in Finland alone?

I collected my luggage and took the connecting flight north.

By evening, I reached the glass-cabin resort.

Snow covered everything.

The forest looked unreal under the blue darkness.

For months I had imagined arriving there with Adrian.

Instead, I walked into reception alone.

The woman behind the desk smiled.

—Ms. Bennett?

—Yes.

She checked the reservation.

Then frowned.

—There’s a note here.

My stomach tightened.

—What note?

She turned the screen slightly.

—Your reservation was modified yesterday.

I stared at her.

—Modified how?

—A second guest was added to your cabin.

I already knew the answer.

But I asked anyway.

—Name?

—Vanessa Reed.

I closed my eyes.

Adrian hadn’t just given her my plane ticket.

He had added her to a reservation I had spent almost two years trying to secure.

—Remove her.

The receptionist hesitated.

—Of course. Since you’re the primary booking holder, that’s possible.

Primary booking holder.

Not Adrian.

Not Vanessa.

Me.

I almost smiled.

Then she continued:

—There is one more issue.

She lowered her voice.

—Someone requested access to change the payment authorization.

—Who?

—Mr. Adrian Cole.

I stared at her.

—He isn’t the person who paid.

—That’s why the request was rejected.

Something cold moved through me.

Adrian had tried to take control of the reservation after taking my place on the trip.

Why?

I checked into the cabin.

It was more beautiful than every photograph.

Glass roof.

Snow-covered pines.

A fireplace glowing softly.

And silence.

I should have been thinking about the aurora.

Instead, I opened my laptop.

Something about Adrian’s behavior wasn’t adding up.

The gloves.

The sudden trip change.

His panic when I canceled his ticket.

His insistence that I return home immediately.

It wasn’t just about Vanessa.

I logged into the travel account I had used to organize the trip.

Flights.

Hotel.

Excursions.

Insurance.

Everything was there.

Then I noticed a document I didn’t remember uploading.

“Additional Guest Authorization.”

I opened it.

My name appeared at the bottom.

My electronic signature too.

Except I had never signed it.

I zoomed in.

The document had been submitted three days earlier.

By Adrian.

I felt my skin go cold.

He had forged my authorization to transfer part of the reservation to Vanessa.

I immediately downloaded a copy.

Then I checked the attached payment information.

And that’s when I saw something stranger.

Vanessa’s added expenses weren’t being charged to Adrian’s card.

They were being charged to an account I recognized.

Mine.

Our joint travel fund.

I had contributed almost eighty percent of it.

But the recent withdrawals weren’t only for Finland.

Hotel.

Jewelry.

Private clinic.

Apartment deposit.

I stared at the screen.

There were almost eighteen thousand dollars in unexplained charges over six months.

My heart started beating faster.

The apartment deposit had an address attached.

I searched it.

A luxury complex back home.

I knew that neighborhood.

Adrian had once told me he’d never live there because it was “ridiculously overpriced.”

Yet someone had paid a six-month deposit.

Using our account.

I called the property management company.

—Hi. I’m calling about a payment made from my account.

The woman asked for the transaction number.

I gave it.

Keyboard sounds.

Then:

—Yes, Ms. Bennett. That payment was applied to Apartment 1408.

—Who is the tenant?

There was a pause.

—I’m afraid I can’t release—

—My bank account funded it.

Another pause.

Then:

—The lease holder is Mr. Adrian Cole.

I stopped breathing.

—Anyone else?

The woman hesitated again.

—There is a listed co-occupant.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

—Vanessa Reed?

—No.

That answer shocked me more than yes would have.

—Then who?

—Megan Cole.

I frowned.

I had never heard that name.

—Relation?

—She is listed as his spouse.

My entire body went still.

—His what?

The woman realized she’d said too much.

—I’m sorry, you’ll need to discuss the lease directly with Mr. Cole.

The call ended.

I stared at the dark screen.

Adrian wasn’t married.

At least, he wasn’t married to me.

We had been together for five years.

I knew his parents.

His friends.

His childhood stories.

I’d spent Christmases with his family.

Who was Megan Cole?

My phone rang immediately.

Adrian.

This time, I answered.

—Sophie.

His voice was breathless.

—Where are you?

—I told you. Finland.

—Which hotel?

I smiled faintly.

—Why?

—Because I need you to leave.

That was not what I expected.

—Leave Finland?

—Tonight.

His voice lowered.

—Book a flight. Any flight. I’ll pay for it.

Now I knew.

Whatever Adrian had been hiding, it was connected to this trip.

—Why are you scared I’m here?

Silence.

—I’m not scared.

—Then tell me who Megan Cole is.

Nothing.

Not even breathing.

I sat up slowly.

—Adrian?

His voice changed completely.

—Where did you hear that name?

There it was.

Fear.

Real fear.

I looked through the glass ceiling.

The sky above the cabin had begun turning faintly green.

The northern lights.

My dream.

And somehow, I barely noticed.

—Answer me.

Adrian whispered:

—Sophie, listen carefully.

Then someone knocked on my cabin door.

Three slow knocks.

I froze.

Adrian heard it through the phone.

—Is someone there?

I stood.

—Probably staff.

His voice sharpened.

—Don’t open that door.

Another knock.

Then a woman’s voice came from outside.

—Sophie Bennett?

My skin went cold.

Adrian started shouting.

—Sophie, do not open it!

I walked toward the door anyway.

—Who is it?

A pause.

Then the woman answered:

—My name is Megan.

I stopped breathing.

Behind me, Adrian was still yelling through the phone.

But I barely heard him.

Because Megan’s next words made everything inside me go silent.

—I’m Adrian Cole’s wife.

And I’ve been waiting five years to meet you.