I trail off. Even months later, the image is seared into my brain. Brody on top of some blonde woman. The way they scrambled apart when they saw me standing in the doorway. The sheets tangled around their naked bodies. Her lipstick smeared across his neck.
“What did he say?”
“He said it didn't mean anything. That she was nobody, just a coworker who didn't matter. That I was the one he wanted to marry.” I laugh bitterly at the memory. “Like that was supposed to make it better. Like I should be grateful he still wanted to go through with the wedding after fucking someone else in our bed.”
Ethan's arms tighten around me. “He's lucky I don't know where he lives.”
“The worst part was that he wasn't even remorseful. He was annoyed. Annoyed that I came home early and interrupted him. Annoyed that I was making a big deal out of nothing. He kept saying I was overreacting, that it was just sex, that men have needs, and it would never happen again.” I shake my head. “I took off my engagement ring and threw it at his head. Then I packed a bag and walked out.”
“Good.”
“My mother didn't think so. She called me the next day, after Brody ran to her crying about how I'd abandoned him. She wanted me to forgive him. Work things out. Go to couples counseling. She said men stray sometimes, and that's just the reality of marriage.” I pull back so I can see Ethan's face. “That's when I knew I had to leave Charlotte. I couldn't stay in a citywhere everyone expected me to smile and pretend my fiancé hadn't humiliated me.”
“Your mom sounds like a piece of work.”
“She means well. She just has very specific ideas about how life should look, and a broken engagement doesn't fit the picture.” I move back to the counter and pick up my plate again. “My dad was different. He never liked Brody, though he kept it to himself while we were together. When I told him I was moving to New York, he helped me research apartments and told me he was proud of me for choosing myself. We talk every Sunday.”
“He sounds like a good man.”
“The best.” I smile, thinking of our weekly calls. “And then there's Eve. My best friend since we were six years old. Our parents are friends, so we grew up together, did everything together. She's the one who told me I wasn't crazy for leaving Brody. She's also the one who told him to fuck off when he showed up at her bank demanding to know where I was.”
Ethan's eyebrows rise. “He went to her workplace?”
“She's a teller at First National. He walked right up to her window like he was making a deposit and started interrogating her about my location.” I can't help but smile at the memory of Eve recounting the story. “She told him she had no idea where I was and even if she did, she wouldn't tell him. Then she asked if he wanted to open a savings account or if he was done wasting her time.”
“I like her already.”
“You'd love her. She's fierce and loyal, and she doesn't take shit from anyone.” I sigh. “She thinks if I ignore Brody long enough, he'll get bored and move on to someone else. I hope she's right.”
As if on cue, my phone rings.
I glance at the screen on the counter, and my stomach drops.
Unknown number.
Ethan sees it too. His jaw tightens. “Don't answer it.”
But some masochistic part of me wants to hear what Brody has to say. I pick up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Nat.” His voice slides through the speaker like oil. “Don't hang up. Please. I just want to talk. Five minutes, that's all I'm asking. You owe me that much.”
“I don't owe you anything.”
“Baby, please. I made a mistake. One mistake. We can work through this if you just give me a chance to explain.”
“Don't call me baby.” I grip the phone tighter. “And stop calling me. We're done, Brody. We've been done for months.”
“You don't mean that. You're just angry, and you have every right to be, but we can fix this. Come back to Charlotte and we can?—”
I disconnect the call and toss the phone onto the counter like it's contaminated.
Ethan is rigid beside me, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “That was him?”
“Yes.”
“Give me his number. I'll make sure he never calls you again.”
