Chapter 8
I took my laptop and started the process of separating my life from his as soon as he went for work. I logged into our joint bank account with trembling hands. Every number that appeared on the screen served as a reminder of how interwoven our lives were.
I watched the number go from a shared amount to something that was clearly mine when I moved my savings into my own account. I then cancelled the joint credit card with the straightforward comment, “No longer needed”
I felt like I was quietly reclaiming the independence I had lost somewhere down the line with each mouse click, a tiny rebellion.
Packing was more difficult.
I began by carefully removing my clothing from the hooks and folding them into a bag in the closet. Every bit of cloth appeared to hold a memory–dates, giggles, and unspoken vows. As I worked, the weight of those times weighed heavily on me, but I made myself continue.
I had packed the necessities into a compact box and two suitcases before midday. Out of sight but prepared for when it was time to depart, I slipped them into the guest room closet.
The knock on the door interrupted me while I was going through a pile of old letters. My stomach grew constricted. We weren’t expecting anyone, and Liam wasn’t expected home for hours.
I gingerly made my way to the door, wiping my hands on my jeans. Isabel was standing on the other side when I opened it, her eyes bright with something sharper but her face composed.
She said “Nora” with ease, as though we had known each other for ages.
“Why are you in this place?” My voice was colder than I meant when I asked.
Her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, she entered without waiting for an invitation. “I felt that
we ought to speak.”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the door to close it. “We don’t have anything to discuss.”
“Don’t we?” Isabel raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch as she turned to face me. “I think it’s time you heard the truth, even though Liam may have told you otherwise,”
Panic flashed through me, but I suppressed it and maintained a neutral expression. “And what is
that truth?”
She gave a smile, but it wasn’t a comforting one. “That Liam hasn’t been truthful with us both.”
Her remarks were like a kick to the stomach. “What are you discussing?”
Isabel glanced around the living room, focusing on the partially packed box next to the couch. It
Chapla
appears that you are already aware, aren’t you? You’re heading out.
I yelled, “That’s none of your business.”
She moved in closer, her tone still sharp but her voice softer. “It is when it involves me. Liam and I have… history, as you know. But what you might not realize is that our history never really ended.”
I stared at her, my heart pounding. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Ask him about the weekends he said he was working late. Or the trip he took last month for a supposed conference. I think you’ll
find the timelines… interesting.”
Anger bubbled up, hot and volatile. “Get out,” I said, my voice low and trembling.
Isabel didn’t move. “I came here because I thought you deserved to know. Liam’s been playing both sides, Nora. He wants to keep you because you’re safe, predictable. But me? I’m the one who keeps him excited.”
“Shut up,” I screamed, my hands curling into fists.
For the first time, her composure faltered. “You think I’m the villain here, but I’m not. I didn’t force
him to do anything. He chose this.”
“And you’re just an innocent bystander?” I shot back, my voice rising. “You came into our lives
knowing exactly what you were doing. You’re no better than he is.”
Her eyes sharpened, the façade of civility crumbling. “Believe what you want, Nora. But the truth
has a way of coming out, whether you’re ready for it or not.”
She turned on her heel, her steps ringing through the room as she went for the door. “Good luck,”
she muttered over her shoulder, her voice chilly. “You’ll require it.”
There was an oppressive hush when the door slammed behind her.
My thoughts were racing as I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. My relationship was already in shambles, and everything she said was like a grenade thrown into the mix. There was a part of me that wanted to think she was lying and trying to distance herself from Liam. However, another part of me knew she wasn’t since it had seen the messages, the receipt, and the expression on Liam’s face when I confronted him.
That night, I was sitting on the couch with the unopened letter box in front of me when Liam got home.
He dropped his keys on the counter and said, “Hey!” “How did your day go?”
The weight of everything I couldn’t say made my chest tight as I looked at him. “All right,” I said in a bland voice.
He approached me and leaned in to give me a kiss. At the last moment, I twisted my head, causing
Chapter 8
his lips to lightly touch my cheek.
His forehead furrowed as he withdrew. “What’s the matter?”
I stood up and said, “Nothing.” “Just worn out.”
Liam gently but firmly grabbed for my arm. “Talk to me, Nora. What is happening?
With the words blazing at the back of my mind, I turned to face him. I wanted to yell at him, to demand clarification, to tell him the truth. Instead, shook my head and withdrew.
I said, “Not tonight, Liam,” as I made my way to the bedroom.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand as I shut the door. From the unidentified number, another message.
“Now is the moment. Come see me at 3 p.m. tomorrow. The Fifth Avenue café.
My heart was racing as I gazed at the message. Everything would be revealed tomorrow. Furthermore, I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for it this time.
