CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

4 Years Before Launch

Pasadena, California

When Naomi discovered Cole had found another woman, her first emotion hadn’t been anger, but relief.

She’d found out four months after the pill had fallen from his pocket. She’d watched him, palming the medicine each morning while taking a sip of orange juice. He’d have made a half-decent magician, with that sleight of hand. She’d missed her last few cycles, but pregnancy tests still showed negatives. The cysts on her ovaries might have gotten larger, blocking ovulation entirely.

Those last few months, she and Cole lived separate lives. Breakfast was the only real time they spent together, along with sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. Gone were Cole’s absent-minded, lingering touches he gave early in their relationship, as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her for too long. He came back later and later, but instead of being stressed from the supposed overtime, his muscles were lax. It didn’t take her long to put it together.

She packed up a suitcase of what she wanted to keep and donated the rest to goodwill, a few bags at a time. She had no need for the furniture, and most of it wasn’t to her taste, anyway. She’d bought it so that when people came over, they saw an apartment befitting the Man of Mars. Futuristic, swish, too expensive. Who the hell was she trying to impress?

Naomi debated leaving a note, simply disappearing, but she was someone who craved closure. She didn’t want the end niggling at her, late at night—something she poked at like a sore tooth.

She stayed calm, rational. She laid out the evidence. The pills, the affair. She’d suspected and followed him from work one day, certain she’d been wrong right up until she’d seen him walk up to a woman with dark hair, his face lit up with the smile he no longer gave Naomi. He’d kissed her, right on the sidewalk, and Naomi had asked the car to take her home.

Naomi had found out the woman’s name, hating herself for looking her up online. It hadn’t been hard. Mel Simmons. One quick search found photos or witty statuses on her social feeds, her bylines on news sites. Mel was a sharp writer, her articles punchy and persuading.

Naomi finally, finally told Cole that she couldn’t give him what he wanted, and that he’d be better off with Mel. She would be used to the sharp teeth of the public world. Mel would shine in the documentary, whereas Naomi was someone who would happily sidestep the spotlight.