Chapter 4 - Thursday's Final Farewell
The alarm clock blared at 4:30 a.m.,
shattering the thin glass of my sleep.
Ethan moved with an efficient,
excited energy.
He showered,
shaved,
and splashed on the expensive cologne he usually saved for special occasions.
I sat in bed,
propped up by pillows,
watching him prepare for his double life.
"Don't get up,"
he said,
checking his reflection in the mirror.
"The Uber will be here in ten minutes."
"I'll call you when I land in Seattle."
"Have a safe flight,"
I said,
my voice steady.
"I hope you find exactly what you're looking for in...
Seattle."
He grabbed his suitcase,
the one containing the seeds of his own destruction,
and kissed the air near my face.
"I'll miss you guys,"
he said,
already halfway out the door.
I listened to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.
I listened to the front door open and close.
I listened to the car pull away,
the gravel crunching like dry bone.
The house was suddenly,
wonderfully empty.
I got out of bed and walked to the window.
The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon,
bleeding pink and orange across the Denver sky.
I didn't feel sad.
I felt like a prisoner who had just watched the guard walk away with the wrong set of keys.
I walked into Bailey’s room and gently shook her awake.
"Hey,
baby,"
I whispered.
"We're going on a little trip."
She rubbed her eyes,
confused.
"To Seattle with Dad?"
"No,"
I said,
helping her sit up.
"To Grandma’s beach house in California."
"We’re going to see the real ocean."
By 8:00 a.m.,
the movers I had hired secretly arrived.
I had already packed our essentials into my car.
The movers were there to take the furniture that had belonged to my mother,
the items I had brought into the marriage.
I wasn't just leaving;
I was erasing our presence from the structure he had tried to steal.
I left the iPad on the kitchen counter,
right next to a single,
printed sheet of paper.
It wasn't a math worksheet.
It was the legal notice that I had filed for an emergency restraining order and the temporary custody of Bailey.
I also left a note for Chloe.
I knew she would come by once she realized Ethan wasn't answering her calls.
The note said:
"He’s in Hawaii with Samantha."
"The bank accounts are empty."
"Good luck with the consulting firm."
I watched the movers load the last of the heirlooms into the truck.
The house looked hollowed out,
a shell of a life that had been built on a foundation of sand.
I took Bailey’s hand and led her to the car.
"Is Dad coming?"
she asked as I buckled her in.
"No,
Bailey,"
I said,
looking her in the eye.
"Dad is on a different kind of vacation."
"But from now on,"
"it's just going to be us."
"And we're never going to be 'tired' again."
I drove away without looking back.
May you like
I had a blueprint for a new life,
and it didn't include a single person who saw my love as a weakness.
