Even though Ethan had no idea I was just outside the terrace door, some foolish part of me had expected him to come running after me. To catch my arm, call my name, and apologize before I could disappear into the night. But he hadn’t.
It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for something he didn’t even know had happened, but logic wasn’t my strong suit at the moment. I was running on emotions. I felt betrayed by the fact that when I needed Ethan to choose me, he hadn’t even noticed I was gone.
I exhaled shakily and reached for my laptop, opening it more out of habit than intention. The familiar glow of the screen felt oddly grounding. I pulled up my email and replied to a few messages from students. Then I logged into my course portal and clicked on the assignment waiting to be graded.
Work was something I could control. It provided structure I desperately needed right now. So I opened the first document and began to read.
Five sentences into the first paper, the words blurred. I stared at the screen, blinking hard and realizing I hadn’t absorbed a single thing. My thoughts kept drifting back to the way Sophie had sounded so sure. So damn entitled. How clear it had been that she really thought she belonged in Ethan’s life.
I had no doubt Margot would’ve agreed.
Heaving a deep sigh, I closed the laptop and let my head fall forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. I’d always told myself I was strong, that I didn’t need to be chosen to feel whole. I was tired of being the one who held everything together while everyone else decided how much of me they wanted.
I didn’t want to beg or compete.
And I didn’t want to spend another second wondering if the man I loved would ever choose me.
12
ETHAN
The couch was unforgiving beneath my back, my neck stiff and my mouth dry when I woke. My brain was foggier than it normally was in the morning, and then everything that happened last night came rushing back.
How royally I’d fucked up my marriage.
I pushed myself upright and groaned at the light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My phone sat on the coffee table where I’d dropped it sometime after midnight. I reached for it with a familiar spike of dread, already knowing what I’d find. No missed calls or messages from Callie.
I rubbed a hand over my face, dragging my fingers down slowly as if that might wake me from whatever nightmare this was. I’d searched for her for hours. Drove aimlessly until the streets blurred together, and I ran out of places to look. I even checked her campus. But I hadn’t found any sign of her.
Standing, I looked around the living room. The throw blanket she always used was folded neatly over the arm of the chair by the window, the one she liked to sit in when she graded papers or read in the evenings.
I was about to turn away when it hit me how much I’d let her down. When Callie had told me about how my mother had made her feel like a guest in our home, it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d done the same in a very big way.
The office down the hall with the perfect view of the park across the street was mine. It always had been, even though I rarely used it since I met Callie. She’d never complained about working at the coffee table or curled up on the couch with her laptop. She had an office on campus, but she preferred to grade papers at home. And with only online classes over the summer and virtual office hours, she only went to the college for department meetings.
I’d made room for my priorities and assumed she’d fit herself around them without giving it much thought. And my sweet wife had never once complained until I royally fucked up by missing her appointment.
I exhaled slowly, the sound harsh in the quiet apartment.
This wasn’t just about a misunderstanding. I’d failed her long before last night.
The phone started buzzing on the coffee table, and I rushed over to answer. Only it wasn’t Callie’s name flashing across the screen. It was my mother. Again.
I told myself I didn’t owe her anything right now. Still, my hand moved practically on its own. “Hello.”
“Thank goodness you finally picked up.” Relief bled into irritation in the same breath, as only my mother could do. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
I wandered into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, closing my eyes. “I’ve been busy.”
“You could have at least answered one of my calls or sent a message. I was worried sick.” She paused for a beat. “After everything that happened last night.”
“What do you need, Mother?”
A pause crackled across the line. “I just don’t understand what came over you. You embarrassed me in front of everyone.”
The only person who embarrassed my mother was herself, but I knew she wouldn’t admit it. “That’s why you’ve been calling?”
“Well, yes. You snapped at me, publicly. As if I’d done something wrong,” she huffed.
