Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 51 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 51

Chapter 2 

Marcus flipped through my paperwork and scribbled something down. 

“Alright, real talk-this marriage? Doesn’t do jack for you financially. You positive you wanna pull the trigger on this?” 

“Hundred percent.” 

“Okay. If this ends up in front of a judge, I need something concrete. What’s going on?” 

I didn’t even pause. 

“Every password in our house is his ex’s birthday. Door code, WiFi, the safe, his phone, Venmo-all of it’s 0912. The WiFi’s even called JM0912.” 

His pen stopped moving. 

“How long’s this been going on?” 

“Three years. Since the day I moved in.” 

“Did you bring it up with him?” 

“Twice. He told me it was just random numbers and I was making a big deal out of nothing.” 

Marcus dragged his pen across the page in one hard line. 

“Got it. I’ll have the draft ready in three to five days.” 

“Sounds good.” 

I left around four and walked past a bakery on my way home. There was a nine-dollar cake sitting in the window with 

one sad candle stuck in it. 

I stood there staring at it like an idiot, then kept walking. 

I beat Eric home. 

I stood in the living room and actually looked at this place for the first time in forever. The couch was dark gray-I hate gray. The curtains were cold white when I wanted something softer. The bookshelf was crammed with French novels nobody’s ever opened, and I don’t even speak French. 

Chapter 2 

When I moved in, everything was already done. Eric said there was no point changing it. 

I dropped to my knees and dragged the safe out from under the bed, then punched in 0912. 

Click. 

Inside was our marriage license, the deed, some insurance papers. 

At the very bottom-a little black jewelry box. 

I opened it. 

Silver ring. Engraved inside: Jenna 0912. 

Our wedding bands? His sits on the nightstand half the time-he barely wears it. 

But this ring was locked up, hidden at the bottom of a safe. 

I snapped the box shut and put it back exactly where it was, then shoved the safe under the bed. 

I opened his side of the closet and found a canvas bag stuffed way in the back corner. I unzipped it and pulled out a stack of postcards and letters. 

The top postcard had perfect handwriting: 

Eric, Paris is amazing. We need to come here together. 

Signed: Jenna. 

I flipped through the rest. Paris. London. Iceland. 

Every single one signed: Jenna. 

The last postmark was from four years ago. 

They split up five years ago, and he kept every damn one. 

I put them back the way I found them, zipped up the bag, and shoved it back into the corner. 

Casey sent another voice memo practically yelling at me to spill. 

I texted her: Safe code’s 0912. There’s a ring inside with his ex’s name and birthday engraved on it. 

She sent back one word. 

“Fuck.” 

Chapter 2 

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