I crumpled the paper and started again.
Sam,
I know what you want to tell me this afternoon. I’m making this easier for all of us.
I understand that being a father has to come first. I understand that Leo needs stability and your complete attention. I understand that the life we were building together isn’t possible anymore.
I’ll be gone for a few days. Please be moved out by the time I get back. I’ll call when I’m ready to talk about logistics - our joint bank account, bills, etc.
Take care of yourself. Take care of Leo.
Chloe
I read it twice, then left it on the table where Sam would see it when he got home.
Now I just had to pack and get out before he came home. Before I had to face him and hear the truth I already knew.
I moved on autopilot. Grabbed a duffel bag from the closet. Threw in clothes without looking at what I was taking – jeans, t-shirts, whatever my hands found first. Toiletries from the bathroom. My laptop. A charger. A couple of books.
I didn’t know where I was going. Didn’t care. I just knew I had to leave.
This was exactly what I did – what I’d learned to do. When faced with betrayal, when confronted with evidence that the man I loved had been living a secret life, I didn’t stay and fight. I ran.
Sean had taught me that fighting for someone who didn’t want you was just another form of humiliation. Better to leave with whatever dignity remained than to beg someone to choose you over their lies.
I was zipping up my duffel bag when my cell rang.
Harper’s name flashed on the screen. I stared at it, my hand hovering over the decline button. I couldn’t handle that conversation right now. Not when I was barely holding myself together, not when I needed to get out before Sam came home, not when every word Jenna had said was still echoing in my head.
But Harper was also my friend.
I answered on the fourth ring. “Hi Harper.”
“Chloe. Thank God.” Harper’s relief was palpable through the phone. “Where are you? Sarah just called me—”
“I’m sorry about Emma’s party. I’ll come over to see her soon, I promise. I have to go, Harper—”
“Chloe, wait. Please.” Harper’s voice was urgent. “Sarah called me really worried. She said a woman came to the clinic with a little boy, asked to see you privately, and when you came out of your office afterwards, you looked devastated. Are you alright?”
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely grip the phone. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What could I even say?
“Chloe? Are you still there? Is Sam there? Can I talk to him?”
“No, Sean isn’t here—” I stopped, horror washing over me. “Sam. I meant Sam. Sam isn’t here.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Harper spoke again, her voice was very gentle. “Chloe, sweetheart, take a breath. You just called Sam by your ex’s name.”
“I know. I know I did. I have to go—”
“Chloe, please, just slow down for a second. I don’t know what happened, but I know Sam loves you—”
“Did you know?” The words came out harsh, accusatory. “Did you know about Leo?”
“Chloe—”
“Sam has a son, Harper. A little boy he never told me about. A son!” My voice was rising, cracking.
“I know this must be really hard, but if you could just—”
