Chapter 9
2562 Words
Summer’s POV
The words hung in the air between us.
Heavy.
Final.
Real.
Lena didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she pulled into a quieter street before speaking.
“You’ve made up your mind?”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Not this time.
Not anymore.
“I spent the entire time believing my husband was coming home to me.”
I stared at my hands.
“Instead…”
“I found him kissing another woman.”
I let out a slow breath.
“I keep replaying it.”
“The way he looked at her.”
“The way he didn’t even try to explain.”
“He just…”
I shook my head.
“…stood there.”
“As though I was the one interrupting something.”
The memory still hurt.
But…
Not the way it had yesterday.
Yesterday, it had felt like someone ripping my heart out.
Today…
It felt like a scar forming.
Still painful.
Just…
Different.
“I can’t stay married to someone who looked at another woman the way he used to look at me.”
Silence filled the car.
“I deserve better.”
The words surprised even me.
I hadn’t realized I believed them until I heard myself say them.
Lena smiled.
A genuine, relieved smile.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“You deserve better.”
She nodded firmly.
“You’ve deserved better for a long time.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She sighed.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“But now…”
She looked at me with nothing but honesty.
“I’ve watched you disappear over the last years.”
Her words stung because they were true.
“You used to laugh all the time.”
“You’d call me over the smallest things.”
“You’d write.”
“You’d paint.”
“You’d drag me out for coffee at ridiculous hours.”
A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself.
“I remember.”
“And then…”
She looked ahead again.
“You married Ethan.”
I stayed silent.
“I’m not saying marriage changed you.”
She shook her head.
“I’m saying…”
“He did.”
“You started apologizing for everything.”
“You stopped making plans.”
“You always looked exhausted.”
“You stopped arguing whenever something bothered you.”
“You just…”
She searched for the right words.
“…accepted it.”
I swallowed hard.
“When was the last time you bought something just because it made you happy?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
“I…”
I couldn’t remember.
Lena noticed.
“Exactly.”
She continued quietly.
“You became a shadow of yourself.”
Every word landed with uncomfortable accuracy.
“I kept hoping things would get better.”
“I kept hoping he’d become the husband you deserved.”
She sighed.
“But every time I saw you…”
“…you looked a little smaller.”
I stared out the windshield, my vision suddenly blurry.
“I didn’t even realize it.”
“I know.”
“You stopped being Summer.”
A tear escaped before I could stop it.
“I think…”
I whispered.
“…I forgot who she was.”
Lena reached over again, this time wrapping her fingers around mine.
“No.”
“You buried her.”
“There’s a difference.”
I laughed through the tears.
“You always know what to say.”
“I’ve had years of practice.”
I wiped at my face before the tears could fall properly.
“So…”
She smiled.
“I do know a lawyer.”
I looked up.
“You do?”
“My cousin works with one.”
“She’s brilliant.”
“She’s ruthless.”
“And from everything you’ve told me…”
She squeezed my hand again.
“…Ethan is going to need a very good explanation.”
I smiled.
A real one.
The first one that had nothing to do with whiskey…
Or masks…
Or trying to forget someone.
“When can I meet her?”
“I’ll call today.”
Relief flooded through me.
For the first time since yesterday…
I had a plan.
Not a perfect one.
Not an easy one.
But a plan.
And somehow…
That made breathing easier.
By the time we reached Lena’s apartment, the exhaustion I’d been ignoring finally caught up with me.
She handed me one of her oversized hoodies, insisted I shower first, then practically ordered me to eat breakfast before thinking about anything else.
I didn’t argue.
After showering, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, studying my reflection.
I looked tired.
My eyes were still slightly swollen.
But…
There was something else.
Determination.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was quiet.
Steady.
For the first time in a long time…
I wasn’t preparing to keep a marriage together.
I was preparing to walk away from one.
A few hours later, I stood in Lena’s guest room, pulling on my own clothes again.
The burgundy top was neatly pressed now.
The stain had faded but hadn’t disappeared completely.
Somehow…
It felt fitting.
Some stains never vanished entirely.
They simply became less noticeable with time.
I picked up my handbag from the bed.
My phone.
My wedding ring caught the light as I reached for the zipper.
I stared at it for several long seconds.
Then slowly twisted it around my finger.
Not taking it off.
Not yet.
That moment deserved to happen somewhere else.
At the end.
Not the beginning.
I slipped my phone into my bag and took one long, steady breath.
Lena appeared in the doorway.
“You ready?”
I wasn’t.
Not even close.
But I straightened my shoulders anyway.
“I have to be.”
She walked over and pulled me into a tight hug.
“No matter what happens…”
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
“…don’t let him convince you that you imagined your pain.”
I nodded.
“I won’t.”
Another deep breath.
Another steadying exhale.
Then I picked up my bag.
Walked toward the front door.
And prepared to go home…
To face the man who had once been my whole world.
The drive home felt much shorter than I wanted it to.
Every traffic light seemed determined to turn green.
Every road that was usually clogged with cars suddenly stretched out before us, almost empty.
As if the universe couldn’t wait to deliver me to the one place I wasn’t ready to return to.
Neither Lena nor I spoke much during the last few minutes.
There wasn’t anything left to say.
She had reminded me twice that if I changed my mind, I could turn around.
She had reminded me three times that I wasn’t alone.
By the fourth reminder, I’d simply squeezed her hand.
She understood.
When her car finally rolled to a stop outside my house, neither of us moved.
I stared at the familiar two-story home.
White walls.
Black roof.
The flower beds I’d planted myself.
The front porch Ethan had insisted we decorate together every Christmas.
From the outside…
It still looked like the home of a happily married couple.
Funny how appearances could lie so effortlessly.
“You don’t have to do this today,” Lena said quietly.
“I do.”
“You could stay with me another night.”
“I know.”
She turned toward me.
“Then why?”
I kept my eyes on the house.
“Because if I don’t walk in now…”
I swallowed.
“…I’ll spend another day talking myself out of leaving.”
That was the truth.
Pain had a strange way of making people cling to familiarity.
Even when familiarity was hurting them.
Lena nodded slowly.
“I’ll keep my phone close.”
“I know.”
“If you need me…”
“I know.”
“If he raises his voice…”
“I’ll leave.”
“If he tries to manipulate you…”
“I’ll remember everything I saw.”
“If you cry…”
A small smile found its way onto my lips.
“I’ll still leave.”
She smiled back.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“My best friend.”
I leaned over and hugged her tightly.
Longer than usual.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me who I am.”
She kissed my forehead.
“Now go get your life back.”
I stepped out of the car before I could lose my nerve.
The sound of Lena driving away faded behind me.
I stood alone.
One deep breath.
Then another.
My fingers tightened around the strap of my handbag as I climbed the front steps.
I unlocked the front door.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew he was home.
The television wasn’t on.
The kitchen lights were.
A half-empty mug of coffee sat on the island.
His car keys lay beside it.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
I quietly closed the door behind me.
“I’m home.”
The words had barely left my mouth before footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Heavy.
Quick.
Angry.
Ethan appeared a second later.
His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
His jaw was tight.
His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times.
The moment our eyes met, his expression darkened even further.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Not…
“Are you okay?”
Not…
“Let’s talk.”
Not…
“I’m sorry.”
That one question told me everything I needed to know.
I set my handbag down slowly.
“I asked where you were.”
“I heard you.”
“You disappeared.”
He threw one hand into the air.
“You wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“I called you.”
“I texted you.”
“I came home and you weren’t here.”
His voice grew louder with every sentence.
“Do you have any idea what last night was supposed to be?”
I blinked.
“Our anniversary.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Our anniversary, Summer.”
“I came home expecting my wife.”
He gestured toward the dining room.
“Go look.”
I didn’t move.
“I said look.”
Against my better judgment, I glanced toward the dining room.
Candles.
Half-melted.
A bouquet of roses.
Now beginning to wilt.
A table set for two.
Two untouched wine glasses.
The meal had long since gone cold.
For just a second…
My heart squeezed.
I had planned that dinner.
I’d ordered his favorite food.
I’d chosen the wine.
I’d even bought a new dress.
Everything had been ready before I’d left for the airport.
Before my world had fallen apart.
“I came home to this.”
His voice softened.
“I waited.”
“I kept thinking you’d walk through the door.”
He laughed without humor.
“I spent our anniversary sitting here alone.”
He rubbed both hands over his face dramatically.
“And then…”
He looked back at me.
“…you didn’t come home.”
“I had no idea where you were.”
“I thought something had happened.”
“You could’ve been in an accident.”
“You could’ve been hurt.”
“I was worried sick.”
I stared at him.
Quietly.
Listening.
Watching.
He stepped closer.
“Do you know how that felt?”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was unbelievable.
“You don’t even have the decency to explain where you’ve been?”
Still…
I stayed silent.
He sighed heavily.
“I know yesterday wasn’t ideal.”
Not ideal.
Those two words settled over me like ice.
Not ideal?
That’s what he called it?
“I know what you saw.”
He continued before I could speak.
“But it wasn’t what you think.”
There it was.
The minimization.
“I can explain.”
“Natasha…”
He shook his head.
“…she kissed me.”
I looked at him.
Finally.
“I didn’t kiss her.”
“I pushed her away.”
“You saw us at the worst possible moment.”
He took another step.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that since yesterday.”
“I’ve been calling.”
“You ignored every single one of my calls.”
He spread his hands.
“What was I supposed to do?”
I felt strangely calm.
“Find me.”
“I tried.”
“Try harder.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“Summer…”
“No.”
I lifted a hand.
“You’ve had your turn.”
He looked genuinely surprised.
“I spent the whole day excited to see my husband.”
My voice remained steady.
“I couldn’t wait to tell him about the little surprises I’d planned.”
I glanced toward the dining table.
“I had surprises too.”
My smile was painfully small.
“I even bought you a watch.”
His eyes flickered.
“It’s upstairs.”
“I wrapped it myself.”
I looked back at him.
“You know what I got instead?”
Silence.
“I watched my husband kissing another woman.”
“It wasn’t…”
“I watched.”
He fell quiet.
“I wasn’t imagining it.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t hallucinating.”
“No.”
“So don’t tell me it wasn’t what I think.”
His shoulders slumped.
“I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t accidentally kiss another woman.”
“I told you…”
“You don’t accidentally hide it.”
“You don’t accidentally let your wife find out at an airport.”
“You don’t accidentally destroy someone’s trust.”
His expression hardened.
“So that’s it?”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You’re just…”
He gestured between us.
“…giving up?”
The words almost took my breath away.
Giving up?
I let out a slow, disbelieving laugh.
“I’m giving up?”
“I made one mistake.”
One.
“I’ve spent the last year working nonstop for us.”
“I’ve been under pressure.”
“I’ve barely slept.”
“I’ve sacrificed everything.”
His voice cracked just enough to sound convincing.
“I’ve done all of this for our future.”
“And this…”
He pointed toward me.
“…this is how easily you walk away?”
I looked at the man I’d married.
Really looked at him.
Not once…
Not once…
Had he asked me how I felt.
Not once had he apologized without immediately defending himself.
Every sentence somehow circled back to him.
His stress.
His fear.
His loneliness.
His anniversary.
His sacrifice.
His pain.
As though I was supposed to comfort him.
As though I was the one who had something to make up for.
Something inside me settled with quiet certainty.
Lena had been right.
I hadn’t imagined any of it.
I had simply been too close to see it clearly.
Now…
Standing a few feet away from him…
I could see it all.
- Writer
