Chapter 6 - SAVANNAH'S CRUMBLING FAÇADE
New York was not as welcoming as Savannah had hoped.
She had expected her sister to offer sympathy, perhaps a comfortable couch, and a few weeks of drinking martinis while cursing men. Instead, her sister, a hardworking nurse with two toddlers, had taken one look at Savannah’s designer luggage and sighed.
“You can stay for a week, Sav,” her sister had said. “But you have to chip in for groceries, and I need you to watch the kids while I’m on my night shifts.”
Savannah was miserable. The glamor of being Ethan’s secret—the expensive dinners, the thrilling stolen weekends, the rush of knowing a powerful man was risking everything for her—was gone. In its place was the harsh reality of her own choices.
One evening, after feeding her nephews macaroni and cheese, Savannah’s phone buzzed. It was Ethan.
She considered ignoring it, but morbid curiosity won. She answered.
“Savannah,” Ethan’s voice sounded thin, exhausted. “Please don't hang up.”
“What do you want, Ethan? I told you it’s over.”
“I need you to sign an affidavit,” he blurted out, the desperation palpable.
Savannah laughed harshly. “An affidavit? Are you insane?”
“My lawyers need to prove that the money I spent on the apartment and the trips was... a loan. A personal loan to you that you intended to pay back. If we can classify it as a loan, it’s not embezzlement from the firm, and it’s not dissipating marital assets. I can save my job, Savannah. If I save my job, I can get my money back. We can be together.”
Savannah felt a cold disgust wash over her. “You want me to commit perjury? You want me to take on thirty thousand dollars of debt so you can save your pathetic career?”
“I’ll pay it off! Once the divorce is settled!”
“You really are a coward, Ethan,” Savannah said, realization dawning on her. “Claire was right. You set fires and expect everyone else to burn for you. Do not call me again. If you do, I’ll call Claire’s lawyer and offer to testify against you.”
She hung up and blocked his number.
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Savannah leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at her reflection in the microwave door. She had spent two years trying to steal another woman’s life, only to realize the man she was stealing was a parasite. Claire hadn't lost a husband; she had lost a parasite.
And Savannah had almost been the next host.
