“He said I’m not his wife.”
Her breathing changed. “Say that again.”
“He told me to stop expecting him to act like a husband.”
“After you asked him to do what?”
“Throw away takeout boxes and load the dishwasher.”
Chelsea went quiet.
I wiped my cheek with the heel of my hand. “The worst part is, he’s right.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m saying he’s right that I’m not his wife. So why am I paying like one? Cleaning like one? Waiting like one?”
“What are you going to do?”
I looked at the dinner reminder again.
“I’m still having dinner tomorrow.”
“Ari.”
“Not for him.”
—
The next morning, I woke before my alarm. Scott was still asleep, one arm over his face, breathing like a man with no bills due.
I made coffee for myself.
Only myself.
Then I sent my report at 7:42 and requested a personal day.
I texted the few friends I had invited and told them the surprise dinner was canceled. Chelsea was the only one I asked to still come.
I called Mr. Clement, our landlord, next.
“Hello, Ariana. Everything all right?”
“I need to ask about the lease.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s in my name only, correct?”
“If I give proper notice, I’m responsible through the notice period, but not after?”
“That’s right, as long as the unit is returned properly.”
“And Scott?”
“If he wants to stay after your notice period, he’d need to apply on his own.”
Plain and fair.
“Can you bring the notice paperwork by this evening?”
“I can stop by around six.”
“Thank you.”
When I hung up, I gripped the counter until my hands steadied.
The bedroom door opened.
Scott shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Did you make coffee?”
“There’s enough for a cup in the pot,” I said.
He poured it without noticing the folders on the table. “I’m meeting the band for most of the day. Don’t wait on me.”
He kissed the top of my head like nothing had happened, grabbed his jacket, and left.
The door clicked shut.
Then I moved.
I packed only what belonged to me: my books, my grandmother’s dishes, my work monitor, my photos with Chelsea, the blue throw blanket, and the coffee maker.
I hesitated over that, then packed it too.
Chelsea arrived with packing tape and looked at the folders.
“These are all bills?”
“Copies.”
She opened one. “Ari, this is his amplifier.”
“I know.”
“This is more than my car payment.”
“Are you sure?”
I sealed the box. “For the first time in nine years.”
Chelsea nodded. “Tell me what to pack.”
