After I Gave My Husband Away, He Begged Me to Stay Chapter 09
“You weren’t like this before.”
I scrolled down another page of the construction budget on my laptop.
“I wasn’t this busy before.”
“Grant Sullivan is in San Jose too, isn’t he?”
My mouse stopped.
“Yes.”
“Were you talking to him before you moved?”
“After HR contacted me.”
“He wanted you to go there three years ago.”
“Yes.”
Ethan gave a short laugh.
“Now it makes sense.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Claire, you didn’t blow up our whole relationship because you already had someone else lined up, did you?”
Two coworkers were still in the conference room revising plans.
I took off my headset.
“Ethan.”
“I’m listening.”
“What exactly are you to me now?”
He did not answer.
“My husband?”
“No.”
“My boyfriend?”
He stayed silent.
“The day you got married, we were over.”
“I never agreed to that!”
One of my coworkers looked up.
I lowered my voice.
“A breakup doesn’t require mutual consent.”
“Claire-”
I hung up.
Ten minutes later, he sent me a photo.
It was the mint plant I had left at the condo.
Half the leaves had wilted.
[If you don’t come back, it’s going to die.]
I looked at it and locked my phone.
At noon the next day, a local florist delivered a new mint plant.
The card wasn’t signed.
Only one line:
[If the old one can’t be saved, replace it. Not everything has to be held on to.]
I carried the card across the hall to Grant’s office.
He was coming out of the break room with a cup of instant noodles.
“Did you send this?”
“Send what?”
“Keep pretending.”
He glanced at the card in my hand.
“Facilities sent it.”
“Facilities writes this badly?”
“Procurement, then.”
I slapped the card against his chest.
“Don’t send another one.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have room for plants in my office.”
“Your windowsill is empty.”
“You notice a lot.”
“My office is across from yours.”
He peeled back the lid of his noodles.
“Want some?”
“No.”
“Then give me that.”
I tucked the card under his noodle cup.
After school started in September, Noah officially began at Westbridge Elementary.
Megan posted on Instagram constantly.
A first–day photo outside the school.
Parent night on the second day.
A family field day in week three.
Ethan showed up in some of the photos.
In one, he stood near the edge of the group with a sticker on his chest that said “DADS.”
A mutual friend joked in the comments:
[You three actually look like a real little family.]
Megan replied with a facepalm emoji.
I didn’t like it.
At the end of October, I went back to Irvine on a business trip.
The new San Jose campus was negotiating equipment with a local vendor.
The meeting ran until four in the afternoon.
When I came out, Ryan was waiting outside the hotel.
He had lost a little weight.
“You blocked me?”
“Yeah.”
“And you won’t answer my calls?”
“Yeah.”
My two “yeahs” left him visibly irritated.
“Claire, I’m your brother.”
“I know.”
“Then what is this?”
“Nothing.”
“Mom and Dad are gone. We’re all each other has. Are you seriously planning to never speak to me
again?”
I started walking around him.
He followed.
“Tadmit I was wrong about what happened.”
“I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”
“But I honestly didn’t think it was that serious at the time.”
“Who knew you’d really walk away?”
I stopped.
“That’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“You never considered it.”
”
“Because you thought no matter what any of you did, I’d still be right where you left me.”
Ryan opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I yelled at Ethan afterward.”
“Okay.”
“He regrets it too.”
“Okay.”
“Can you stop saying okay?”
“What would you like me to say?”
He dragged a hand through his hair.
“At least come home and visit.”
“Where’s your wife?”
“At the store.”
“You still owe me seven thousand dollars from that eighteen thousand dollar credit card bill.”
His face went stiff.
“You’re still keeping track of that?”
“Yeah.”
“I send you three hundred a month. I haven’t skipped payments.”
“Keep paying.”
“We can talk when it’s paid off.”
“Claire!”
A car pulled up to the curb.
Grant rolled down the passenger–side window.
“Coming?”
I opened the passenger door.
Ryan looked at him.
“Who’s this?”
“A coworker.”
Grant gave him a small nod.
“Hi.”
Ryan ignored him and put a hand on the car door.
“Is he the reason you won’t come back?”
I moved Ryan’s hand away.
“Why do all of you think that if I leave one person, it has to be because I found someone else?”
“I left because all of you disgusted me.”
He froze.
I got into the car.