HE SAID THE SEA MADE HIM SICK. THEN I SAW HIM ON A DOLPHIN TOUR WITH ANOTHER WOMAN.
Chapter 6
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Some people probably would.
Maybe someday I would feel anger toward her too.
But standing there, looking at a woman who had just learned that the man she trusted had invented a wife who didn’t exist while hiding the real one from her, I couldn’t make her the main villain.
There was only one person who had all the information.
Caleb.
“It’s not you I need an apology from,” I said.
Rachel nodded.
Then she walked away.
Caleb watched her go.
That was another small cruelty.
He watched her.
Not me.
Just for two seconds.
Maybe less.
But I saw it.
I saw everything now.
“Go after her,” I said.
His head snapped toward me.
“What?”
“You want to.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You just watched her leave like you were hoping she’d turn around.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
I smiled.
“Of course not.”
“Emily, please.”
He stepped closer.
I stepped back.
For seven years, physical closeness with Caleb had been automatic.
A touch at my waist when he passed behind me in the kitchen.
His hand on my knee in the car.
My feet under his legs on cold nights.
Now the space between us felt necessary.
“You’re my wife,” he said.
The sentence landed wrong.
Not tender.
Possessive.
Almost desperate.
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“I don’t want to lose our marriage over this.”
Over this.
As if this were a storm we had both gotten caught in.
“You already risked it.”
“I know.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
“I made a selfish choice.”
“Choices.”
He looked away.
“Choices,” I repeated. “Every text. Every time you met her. Every time you came home afterward. Every time you told her I had moved out. Every time you refused to do something with me and then did it with her. Those were choices.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was unhappy.”
I stared at him.
There it was.
The reason he had been building.
“You were unhappy.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You seemed happy enough last week.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing is simple now.”
He took a breath.
“We became roommates.”
I almost laughed.
“Did we?”
“That’s how it felt.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided to fix that by sleeping with someone else.”
“I didn’t know how to talk to you.”
The anger finally arrived.
Hot.
Clean.
For most of the afternoon, I had been shocked.
Now I was furious.
“You knew how to talk.”
He stepped back.
“You told me the recycling went out on Thursday. You told me we needed more coffee. You told me your mother wanted us over for dinner next weekend. You asked me what color we should paint the bedroom.”
His face tightened.
“Those aren’t the same.”
“No, they’re easier. That’s the point.”
“Emily—”
“You didn’t fail to communicate. You avoided a difficult conversation because lying was more convenient.”
He stared at me.
I could see him searching for another door.
Another explanation.
Another version where he was not exactly innocent, but understandable enough to forgive quickly.
I had spent years helping him find those doors.
Not today.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my car keys.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“Our car is here.”
“My car is here.”
“We came separately.”
“Yes.”
“I can drive you home.”
I laughed.
“No.”
“Then I’ll meet you there.”
I stopped.
“No.”
His face changed.
“Emily.”
“I don’t want you there tonight.”
“It’s my house too.”
“I know.”
I hated that he was right.
“So give me tonight,” I said. “One night where I don’t have to look at you.”
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than agreement would have.
Even now, he was calculating what he was obligated to give.
Finally he nodded.
“Okay.”
I started walking.
Behind me he said, “I do love you.”
I stopped.
For one terrible second, part of me wanted to turn around.
That was the humiliating part nobody warns you about.
Betrayal doesn’t erase love immediately.
Your mind can know the truth while your body still recognizes the voice.
I remembered our wedding.
Caleb crying when I walked toward him.
Caleb carrying me into urgent care when I sprained my ankle.
Caleb making pancakes badly every Christmas morning.
Caleb asleep beside me.
Caleb laughing with his forehead against mine.
All of it remained true.
So did the boat.
That was the problem.
I didn’t turn around.
“I believe you think you do,” I said.
Then I walked away.
PART 4: THE HOUSE I NEVER LEFT
Our house looked exactly the same.
That felt insulting.
The mail was on the table.
One of Caleb’s shoes was lying near the couch.
Two coffee mugs sat in the dishwasher.
May you like
His jacket hung over the back of a kitchen chair.
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