Chapter 2
1746 Words
Liora
The world steadied itself slowly the chill in the air, the hum of traffic, the firm grip that kept me from falling. My breathing came in shallow bursts, my knees weak beneath me, but Ezra didn’t let go until I nodded that I had my balance again.
“Careful,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “You almost went down hard.”
I managed a shaky breath, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m fine. Just dizzy, that’s all.”
He gave me a look that was equal parts skeptical and concerned. “You call that fine?” His gaze flicked briefly toward the hospital bracelet still looped loosely around my wrist. “Should I take you back?”
The thought of going back to that sterile white room made my stomach twist. “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Please. I’ve had enough of hospitals for one day.”
Ezra hesitated, then nodded slowly. “All right. Sit, at least.”
He guided me to a nearby bench shaded by a tree, the faint scent of pine and the crisp evening air grounding me back into reality. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The world around us moved people laughing, cars passing, the occasional sound of clinking silverware from the restaurant behind but we just sat there, suspended in a quiet pocket of time.
He studied me with the same kind of careful attention I remembered from years ago. “You shouldn’t be out here alone like that,” he said finally. “You scared me.”
His words tugged at something deep inside me. I looked up at him, and then it clicked the familiar sharpness of his jaw, the steady calm in his eyes.
“Thanks.” I whispered.
His lips curved slightly, recognition flickering there. He also looked at me, and there seemed to be a light in his eyes. “So glad to see you again.”
Ezra used to be my neighbor, a popular senior in high school. He was very kind to me, or rather, to everyone. Many girls admired him, including me. I even planned to confess my feelings after graduation, but before I could do so, he moved away with his parents.
I never thought I'd see him again after all these years. If only it weren't in such a disastrous way.
It felt surreal. “Me too.” I said softly, my voice caught somewhere between disbelief and nostalgia. “Is this your first time back since you moved away?”
“I did,” he admitted, leaning back against the bench. “Work took me overseas. I came back recently to visit family. I’m taking my grandmother, Lisa, to New York next week. She's been talking about it since I was a kid.”
At that, I couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Lisa, she must still be just as stubborn.”
Ezra chuckled, that warm, deep sound that used to fill every room. “Worse. She told me she’d book a flight without me if I didn’t take her myself.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That sounds exactly like her.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness in my chest eased. The years between us dissolved, leaving only the familiar comfort of someone who had once known me, really known me before life became so complicated.
“Tell her I said hi,” I murmured. “Actually… maybe I’ll come with you to visit her before you leave.”
“You should,” he said gently. “She still asks about you, you know.”
That simple sentence did something I couldn’t explain. It reminded me that once, I had mattered to people outside my marriage. That I’d been someone worth remembering.
Ezra reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Put your number in. So I can text you when I see her again. Or, you know, in case you decide to almost faint in public again.”
I smiled despite myself, typing in my number. “I don’t plan on making that a habit.”
He took the phone back, amusement flickering in his eyes. But as he slid it into his pocket, his expression changed darkened slightly as his gaze drifted past me, through the restaurant windows.
Ken. Helen. Karl.
Still laughing. Still eating. Like nothing in the world was wrong.
Ezra’s jaw tightened. “That’s your husband, isn’t it?”
I followed his gaze, swallowing hard. “Yes.”
“And the woman?”
“His ex.” My voice came out small. Bitter.
He didn’t respond right away. His silence was heavier than words. Then, quietly, he asked, “How are you doing? Really?”
I looked down at my hands pale, trembling slightly. I didn’t know how to answer that. No one had asked me that in years, not like they meant it.
“I’m not,” I finally whispered. “Not anymore. I was in the hospital today. He didn’t even stay. He went to her instead.”
The admission tore something open in me. It came out raw and shaking.
Ezra said nothing at first. His expression stayed calm, but his eyes darkened with something protective something restrained.
“I’m done,” I said softly. “I want a divorce.”
He turned to face me fully then, the quiet between us stretching taut. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. When he finally did, his voice was steady resolute. “Then it’s about time.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
“You’ve been carrying too much for too long,” he said. “It shows in your eyes. If you really want to leave, don’t be afraid of what comes next.” He hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small card from his wallet and handed it to me. “Here. Call me if you need help.”
I frowned slightly as I took the card. Ezra Hale, Attorney at Law.
“You’re a lawyer?”
He smiled faintly. “Family and civil law. I help people start over.”
I stared at the card for a long time before slipping it into my coat pocket. His words start over felt like both a promise and a dare.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, standing. “Just… stop letting yourself disappear for someone who’s forgotten how to see you.”
The words hit deeper than I wanted to admit.
He glanced at his watch and sighed. “I should get going. Lisa’s waiting for dinner.”
I nodded, my voice too tight to speak.
He hesitated, as if wanting to say something more, then simply said, “Take care of yourself, Liora.”
And just like that, he turned and walked away his figure swallowed by the golden wash of sunset down the street.
His absence felt sudden, like a door closing. I sat there for a long time, his card warm in my palm, the sound of his voice still echoing faintly in my head.
Then I heard familiar laughter behind me.
Ken.
The restaurant doors swung open, and out they came Ken, Karl, and Helen a picture of happiness that should’ve been mine.
Karl spotted me first. His eyes lit up. “Mommy!”
He ran over, breathless with excitement, clutching my hand. “Guess what! I told Daddy and Miss Helen we should go skiing again this weekend! And then go to the hot springs after! Daddy said yes!”
The words hit like a physical blow.
“You suggested it?” I asked softly.
“Uh-huh!” Karl grinned, oblivious. “Helen said it’ll help me relax after practice! And Daddy’s coming too!” He turned to look back at them, eyes bright. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
I forced a smile, though my chest tightened painfully. “That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.”
My gaze shifted to Ken. He met my eyes briefly before looking away. “Karl’s excited,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t see the harm in it.”
I swallowed. “But I thought we were going to the amusement park this weekend. You promised him.”
Karl looked uncertain for a moment, then said quickly, “We can go next time, Mommy.”
Ken added, “You should rest anyway. You’re not fully recovered. Take it easy.”
There it was again rest.
The word that meant, stay out of the way.
Helen’s bright voice chimed in smoothly. “You really should, Liora. You’ve been through a lot lately. Let Ken handle things with Karl for a while.”
I turned to her, my voice calm but edged with steel. “You seem very eager to handle things that aren’t yours, Helen.”
Her smile flickered for a fraction of a second before returning. “Oh, I’m just trying to help.”
“I’m sure you are,” I murmured.
Ken’s patience thinned. “Let’s not do this here. Karl, get in the car.”
I followed them numbly, the cold wind biting through my sleeves.
The drive home was suffocating. Karl talked animatedly from the back seat about skiing, snow, and how “Miss Helen said Daddy skis better than anyone.” Each word pierced deeper, a slow ache that spread through my chest.
Ken laughed a soft, genuine laugh I hadn’t heard in months.
And somehow, that hurt most of all.
I stared out the window, the city lights blurring like tears I refused to shed. Their voices filled the car happy, alive while I sat there silent, fading further into the background.
By the time we reached the house, I felt completely hollow.
Ken parked and turned toward me. “You should rest tonight. I’ll check on you later.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly. “Don’t bother,” I said softly. Then I opened the door, stepped out, and walked toward the house without another glance back.
Inside, the quiet greeted me like an old, unwelcome friend. The walls felt colder somehow.
And for the first time, it hit me fully the truth I’d been avoiding.
I wasn’t just losing Ken.
I’d already lost him.
And worse Karl was slipping away too.
- Writer
