Chapter 2
721 Words
Outside the window, the sky bled from black to the pale gray of early dawn.
I hadn't slept at all.
The following afternoon, my assistant finally sent an address.
A dated apartment complex on the west side of town.
I drove over, parked downstairs, and rang the doorbell.
The woman who answered was wearing a loose linen dress, no makeup, her long hair pinned up casually.
The moment she saw me, the spray bottle in her hand clattered to the floor.
I didn't say a word. I walked straight inside.
A small two-bedroom, maybe six hundred square feet, but it felt lived-in and warm.
A few potted plants by the entryway. A play mat in the corner of the living room, scattered with stuffed animals and picture books.
On the TV stand, a row of photo frames.
The little girl as a newborn. Sitting up at three months. Standing against the wall at one year old.
Ethan was in every single one.
Holding the baby, grinning like a fool.
Those smiles cut into my chest like shards of broken glass, one by one.
Lily stood behind me, twisting the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, her lips trembling but unable to form words.
I turned around and extended my hand.
"Hello. I'm Ethan Calloway's wife, Harper Weston."
Lily's eyes filled instantly. Her voice shook so badly it barely held together.
"Ms. Weston... I... I'm so sorry..."
The tears fell before she could finish.
A little girl toddled out of the bedroom, spread her small arms wide, and planted herself in front of Lily.
"Bad lady! Don't be mean to my mommy!"
She glared at me with big round eyes, and every feature on her face was Ethan's shadow.
The scene reminded me of the time Ethan had fought with his family for my sake. His father had pointed at my face and called me delusional, said I'd drag Ethan down sooner or later.
Ethan had stood in front of me just like this, spine perfectly straight.
His daughter had learned the pose well.
Lily panicked, scooping the little girl up and trying to coax her back to the bedroom.
Rosie twisted and squirmed, refusing to go.
"Don't be scared, Mommy! Daddy said he's coming right back! Bad lady, my daddy is really strong! If you try to hurt us, he won't let you get away with it!"
The words had barely left her mouth when the door opened.
Ethan stood in the doorway holding two bags of groceries.
"Lily, the ribs at the market looked really fresh today. I'm going to make Rosie a stew..."
He saw me, and his entire body went rigid.
The bags slipped from his hands. Cuts of meat rolled across the floor.
He recovered quickly, forcing a smile so strained it looked worse than crying.
"Harper, what are you doing here... Let's go home and talk. Not here..."
"Right here."
My own voice sounded foreign to me, cold in a way I didn't recognize.
"Let your daughter hear it too."
Lily clutched Rosie, her face drained of all color.
Ethan looked like he'd been slapped. His voice shot up.
"Yes! I cheated! But what about you? Count the number of dinners you've eaten at home since we got married. Count how many times you've called me. Harper, my father was diagnosed with liver cancer last year. The doctors say he has two years at most. All he wanted was to see his grandchild, just once!
"And you? Your company, your technology, your funding—is there a single square foot in your life that's reserved for me? All I ever wanted was to come home to someone who was there, someone who noticed when I was cold. Is that really so wrong?"
Every word out of his mouth sounded like a line he'd rehearsed.
Ethan Calloway. The man who had never once raised his voice at me.
The last time I'd seen him this worked up was when his parents tried to force him to divorce me.
He'd driven home in the middle of the night, slammed his hand on the table, and said, "Harper Weston is the only woman I'll ever want. If you can't accept her, then don't bother calling me your son."
Now he'd forgotten every word of it, for someone else.
- Writer
