Wrapping my sweater more tightly around me, I hurried into the apartment building. It was a chilly night outside and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of a fireplace.

Of course, Zane's apartment didn't have a fireplace. As I rode the elevators upstairs, I pondered the feasibility of building a fireplace in an apartment.

It probably couldn't be done.

All thoughts vanished when the door to Zane's apartment swung open, revealing a gorgeous woman wearing nothing but a t-shirt. It wasn't just anybody's t-shirt. It belonged to Zane. The Superman logo at the front made that very clear.

The sight shouldn't have surprised me. Not one bit. Zane and I had never discussed where we stood in terms of our relationship.

Were we in an open relationship? Were we exclusive? I had no idea and never gave it much thought. Seeing the woman in Zane's apartment made it obvious where he stood in all this.

"Sarah, right?" The woman waved me in, projecting a level of comfort and ease in her surroundings. She shouldn't be so comfortable for someone who had only been here once.

At least I think it was her first time.

At a loss for words, I allowed myself to come inside. Every cell in my body was telling me to turn around and get the hell out of there.

The woman looked familiar. It was the eyes, large and round which reminded me of someone. "I'm Fiona." Of course! Fiona was a spitting image of her sexist mother.

Odd. She didn't look like anything I had expected. Mind you, I was picturing Fiona from Shrek but that is beside the point.

Stepping inside, Fiona went to the counter and stirred something around in a pot. She was using my wooden spoon, the one Hannah bought for my birthday last year. It was a prized possession and probably the most important thing I owned.

Surprisingly, it was seeing her use the wooden spoon that shook me from my daze and angered me. Not the whole "other woman" situation but a damn spoon.

"Yeah. I'm Sarah. This might be a weird question but what are you doing here?" She opened her mouth to speak but then someone barreled in through the door. Zane stood for a second, looking flustered. Behind him was a grey suitcase.

His jaw tightened ever so slightly when he saw me beside the couch. "Hey, Sarah. How's it going?"

"She's using my spoon," I blurted out, not really sure what else to say.

He deposited the suitcase in front of his room and threw Fiona an odd look. "Why are you wearing that? I told you that I was grabbing your suitcase." He turned back towards me with tired eyes and a pained expression.

I never thought of Zane in a romantic way. Ever. It didn't make sense why seeing Fiona wearing Zane's t-shirt felt as if someone was hacking away at my insides with a knife.

Spreading his hands out in front of him, Zane said, "I can explain." Shaking my head, I walked right past him.

This entire thing was a bad idea. What was I even expecting when agreeing to this arrangement? Zane's mom would never hurt me intentionally. Why the hell did she think it would be a smart idea for me to marry her son, then?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I was so stupid.

I slammed the door behind me and locked it, not caring for what Zane had to say. Tears sprung to my eyes at the absurdity of the entire situation.

Looking around the room, I easily found my giant suitcase. It lay near the window packed full of my belongings. Since the move to Zane's apartment, I had done very little unpacking, choosing instead to focus on closure and moving forward in my life. After Fiona's appearance, I'm glad I didn't unpack.

"Please, open the door," Zane said, knocking on it lightly. "Let me explain. Please."

He continued to plead with me for a few minutes before declaring that we could talk later. I didn't want to talk. I wanted to forget that the last three months had even happened.

I wanted to forget it all, including how fast my heart raced waking up next to Zane.

I sat down on the bed and mulled over my options at this point. Mom would never let me live it down if I went crying back to her. She had never wanted me to marry Zane in the first place.

The only other person who gave a shit about me was Hannah and she was going out tonight. Unfortunately, this left me with few options for what to do.

Just as I was about to google hotels near me, the door clicked and Zane strode in. I tried to keep my expression neutral. Showing Zane how much Fiona being here bothered me would make things worse.

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. "I'm really sorry for hurting you."

"It's fine. I'm not hurt. I just don't like people using my wooden spoon," I replied with a shrug of my shoulders, leaving the bed and reaching for the suitcase.

"I told her to use a different one instead," he mumbled. "What are you doing?" He frowned, looking at me and then the suitcase. 

I stopped and looked up at the ceiling, feeling as if a giant rock was sitting on my shoulders. "The better question is what are we doing?" He didn't seem to understand what I was hinting at so I continued. "We are obviously both miserable in this marriage."

He took a step back, dropping his gaze to the floor. Like smoke, awkwardness hung thick in the air. I could feel it circling around my neck and slowly sucking the life out of me.

"We should have done a better job at communicating where we stood in all this," I said, waving my hand in front of him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, running his hand across his face in frustration.

"Seriously," I laughed. "Your ex is waltzing around in the kitchen half-naked and you don't know what I'm talking about." A voice at the back of my mind was whispering at how unreasonable I was being about all of this. 

I never made an attempt to see Zane in any other way than as a friend. You would think that by agreeing to marry someone, you would be open to falling in love.

The confusion in his eyes was clear. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again.

"I should leave," I sighed, feeling so emotionally drained.

"Fiona and I broke up cause she cheated on me," he blurted out. "She's married to the guy she cheated on me with."

His confession caused me to freeze in my tracks. My heart squeezed at the pain in his eyes. The feeling of betrayal was familiar to me.

"You didn't tell me that," I whispered, feeling stupid for lashing out at him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was waiting for a good time."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know how it feels to be stabbed in the back like that." I thought back to the moment in the coffee shop with Anwar and how easily he tossed me away.

"She ran into some financial trouble cause of her husband," he continued, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. My mind flashed back to the day we woke up in bed together. I tried not to think about his damn tattoo.

It didn't work.

"Good. That's what she deserves. If I was you, I would have poured a smoothie on her head and sent her on her way." He turned around and arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. "Not that I have ever done something like that."

"I can't just abandon her when she needs help," he said, turning away. "She might be a shitty person but she is still a person."

"Okay." My fingers were still wrapped around the suitcase's handle. My heart was also set on leaving. Though I had been wrong about Fiona, the situation made me realize staying here was hurting both Zane and me. This wasn't healthy.

"Please don't go," Zane whispered. He pushed off the bed and turned to meet my eyes. His voice was tinged with sadness and longing. It tugged at me and caused some of my anger to evaporate. "I need you in ways I can't explain."

Letting out a sigh, I removed my hand from the suitcase. Damn those eyes. They reminded me so much of her. "I need you too," I admitted and then brushed past him, ignoring his surprise. The shocked expression was brief but unmistakably there.

My body ached and longed to curl up in my sheets, forgetting about the events of tonight. I moved towards the bed but then noticed Zane still lingering near the foot of the bed. His hands were in his pocket and he was deep in thought.

"What financial trouble are we talking about exactly?" I asked taking a seat near the pillows, crossing my legs under me.

Zane's face darkened. "Money laundering."

Many years back, I watched a movie in which the criminals exchanged their dirty money for chips at a casino. They played with these for a while and then cashed out their "winnings". My dad tried to explain how the bad guys were laundering their money. All I got from his explanation was that money laundering was bad and didn't actually involve storing your money in a laundromat.

"There are rumours that she and her husband were helping smurf the dirty money," he added. He meets my eyes. "I probably shouldn't be telling you that."

My heart flutters for a brief second. A few minutes ago, I just told him that I was miserable in this marriage. And here he was telling me secrets that go beyond what a husband should be sharing with his wife. How much does he trust me?

"Are the rumours true?" I asked

"I don't know. There is a lot to sift through. My team is going to start tomorrow." He tipped his head back and closed his eyes."Right now I just want to crash."

A thought occurred to me at that moment. Zane's ex was in his room for the night. The apartment only had two rooms. "Wait, where are you going to sleep?"

He turned, frowning slightly. "Probably crash on the couch for a couple of days. At least until Fiona feels comfortable enough to check into a hotel."

"You can sleep here if you want," I said, pursing my lips as I studied the bed. It was huge and big enough for at least four people. "Just stay on your side of the bed."

Zane didn't protest. Rather, he nodded and slipped his t-shirt off. My traitorous heart betrayed me and started to beat rapidly at the sight of Zane half-naked.

We both claimed our respective sides and I flicked the lamp off. We lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling. "Are you really miserable living here with me?" Zane finally asked, his voice almost a whisper.

Guilt suddenly weighed heavy on me, causing tightness to build in my chest. Zane had been nothing but nice for the past couple of months. I shouldn't have said that.

Shutting my eyes, I attempted to find my composure and words. "No. I'm confused but definitely not miserable." And maybe a little jealous,  I wanted to add. "I'm sorry for saying that."

"Okay," he whispered, turning his face towards me."Good night, ballerina. Thanks for letting me crash here for the night."

Zane had said good night to me several times in the past. Though there was something so soft and sweet in his words tonight that it caused all the anger to fade away, leaving behind a strange mix of happiness and confusion.