The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 03
The next day, I went back to the office to hand over my work.
I’d barely sat down at my desk when Ethan walked over, carrying a fancy cake box.
“Toby’s birthday cake. I forgot to give it to him yesterday.”
He set the cake down on my desk, his tone casual, like checking off a routine task.
I paused, then lifted the lid. The cake was beautiful, covered in soft buttercream frosting, topped with golden crushed peanuts. It looked delicious.
Crushed peanuts.
I stared at those tiny pieces, and a cold, bitter smile slowly spread across my lips.
Toby is deathly allergic to peanuts. When he was two, he ate a single piece of peanut brittle, broke out in hives all over his body, and spent a day in the hospital on an IV, his little face so swollen I barely recognized him. After that, I cleared almost everything with peanuts out of the house. Even his kindergarten had a big, red allergy note in his file.
And his own father didn’t even know.
“Thanks.” I pushed the cake box aside, my voice as calm and flat as if I were talking to a stranger.
Ethan didn’t notice the shift. He stood across from my desk for a moment, like he was weighing his words, then finally spoke:
“Clara, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I looked up.
“Chloe’s car broke down yesterday. The apartment she rents is too far from the office, and she’s not used to staying in hotels.” He paused, his gaze drifting away. “Your place is really close to the office. I was thinking… could you and Toby stay in a hotel for a couple of days? Let her move in temporarily.”
I froze.
“You mean, for Chloe Miller, you want to kick me and my son out of our home?”
“Don’t make it sound so dramatic.” Ethan frowned. “It’s just for a couple of days, until her car is fixed and she finds a new place. I’ll pay for the hotel, obviously.”
I looked at him and suddenly laughed. Not a bitter laugh, not a cold laugh—a real, disbelieving laugh at how absurd this was.
So this was what the last of my hold on this marriage had come down to: this house I’d lived in for six years. The walls where Toby had held on while taking his first steps, the crayon drawings on the fridge, the sofa where I’d sat up night after night waiting for Ethan to come home. I’d thought there were so many things I couldn’t bear to let go of.
But when he said those words, I suddenly realized—losing it all wouldn’t hurt half as bad as staying.
“Okay.” I nodded.
Ethan clearly froze, shocked that I’d agreed so easily. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but in the end only added stiffly:
“I’ll make it up to you.”
I didn’t answer. I just lowered my head and kept sorting through the papers on my desk.
That evening, I went home and packed two simple suitcases. When Toby came home from kindergarten and saw them, his little face was full of confusion.
“Mommy, where are we going?”
“Mommy’s taking you to stay in a hotel. One with a really big bathtub, okay?” I squatted down, trying to sound cheerful.
Toby blinked, didn’t ask any more questions, and sweetly helped me tuck his favorite little pillow into the suitcase.
After dark, I pulled one suitcase with one hand and held Toby’s hand with the other, walking out of the house I’d lived in for six years.
Just as I opened the front door, I ran straight into Ethan bringing Chloe Miller home.
He was pushing Chloe’s bright pink suitcase with one hand and carrying several shopping bags in the other, his head tilted down to talk to her, wearing a relaxed, easy smile I’d never once seen directed at me. Chloe was wearing a new dress, her arm looped through Ethan’s, practically hanging off him.
When they saw us, Ethan’s steps faltered for a second, a flash of panic in his eyes, quickly hidden.
Chloe spoke first, her eyes sweeping over me and Toby, her voice sickly sweet:
“Oh my, isn’t this Assistant Carter? Where are you off to with all that luggage so late at night?”
I didn’t say anything. I pulled Toby aside, trying to leave.
But she acted like she hadn’t seen me trying to step away, continuing to smile, her voice just loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear:
“Honestly, thank goodness you’re moving out! I finally get to move in. I’ve wanted to live in this house for ages—such a great location, beautiful decor…”
She covered her mouth with a laugh, then purposely lowered her voice, just loud enough to echo down the hallway:
“Though I can’t help but wonder… wasn’t it a little much for Assistant Carter to live somewhere this nice? After all, some people’s salaries barely stretch to a budget motel, don’t they?”
Toby suddenly stopped.
He looked up, his little face bright red, tears shining in his eyes, but he held them back. He stared at Chloe Miller, his voice clear and sharp:
“That’s a lie! We’re not moving because we want to! Bad people are kicking us out!”
He held my hand tighter, his voice shaking, but every word clear and unwavering:
“I won’t let you say mean things about my mommy!”
The hallway fell silent for a beat.
Ethan’s face twisted. The words “bad people” stuck to him like a needle, pricking at his pride. He looked at Toby, his lips moving like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
I squatted down, pulling Toby into my arms, and whispered softly: “Toby, it’s okay. Mommy’s fine. Let’s go.”
I stood up, pulled the suitcase, held Toby’s hand, and walked right past Ethan.
As we passed, Ethan suddenly reached out and clamped down on my wrist. His fingers were ice cold, his grip so tight it hurt.
“Clara—”
I didn’t look back.
“Let go.” My voice was very soft, but calmer than ever.
Behind me, Chloe’s voice rang out again, laced with hurt and petulance: “Mr. Carter, why are you grabbing her…”
Ethan ignored her. He just held my wrist, silent for a long, heavy moment.
