Speaker 1: I came home late, letting myself and with a little
Speaker 1: more clatter than I intended. He's catching on the lock
Speaker 1: as my bag swan into my hip. The hallway was silent,
Speaker 1: almost jarringly o the kind of quiet that lets you
Speaker 1: hear the pipes hum on the creek of the building,
Speaker 1: settling down for the night. It was nearly ten later
Speaker 1: than I'd hoped, but still within the bounds of wahethan
Speaker 1: and a cold, acceptable wort night lateness. I expected his
Speaker 1: shoes by the door, his muted music from the back room,
Speaker 1: maybe the whir of his stick blender if he'd remembered
Speaker 1: to start soup for late dinners. Instead, the apartment greeted
Speaker 1: me with cool stillness. His jacket was gone, so was
Speaker 1: his old black messenger bag. I towed off my pumps
Speaker 1: and padded through the living room, blunting at the kitchen.
Speaker 1: No leftovers on the stove, sink empty except for the
Speaker 1: water bottle edrance. That morning, I opened the fridge, more
Speaker 1: out of habit and hope maybe a post work snack
Speaker 1: would ground me. A lonely tupper were of cut up pineapple,
Speaker 1: a bottle of white wine. No note. The catch was undisturbed,
Speaker 1: for a blanket, still neatly folded. I peered into the corner,
Speaker 1: his desk, quiet, his sketch pad and touch Since yesterday,
Speaker 1: the only change was the pillow candle light lit last weekend,
Speaker 1: now burned half way down. I texted Ethan, Hum, you
Speaker 1: still at the project? Nothing. I waited, opening Instagram, expecting
Speaker 1: to see posts from the art project, cheery neighborhood volunteers,
Speaker 1: pain flecked hands holding up mugs of coffee, people posing
Speaker 1: in front of the mural wall. Our little corner of
Speaker 1: the city was good at documenting itself. But as I
Speaker 1: scrolled through, not his story, then Ben's. Ethan was conspicuously absent.
Speaker 1: I checked the comments under a group shot on the
Speaker 1: project account. Naddier, Ben, even Preyer from upstairs, all tagged
Speaker 1: or teased in the thread. My name didn't pop up,
Speaker 1: and neither did Ethan's, strange considering he supposedly been helping
Speaker 1: all week. The minutes ticked by, each time I phone
Speaker 1: chopped to push notification and all group chat I checked,
Speaker 1: hoping for his name. Nothing. I told myself it was
Speaker 1: fine that he lost track of time, that they clean up,
Speaker 1: probably of Varan or maybe his phone battery was dead,
Speaker 1: which he never remembered to charge. I tried to distract
Speaker 1: myself by running through emales sorting bills, but my mind
Speaker 1: snagged on his absence. I pulled up Facebook, next, searching Ethan.
Speaker 1: Then not project, but it was just more tangential neighborhood banter.
Speaker 1: My own lost tact photo was from Priya's housewarming two
Speaker 1: weeks ago. A blur of gusses lifted in a toes
Speaker 1: Ethan's omleys round my shoulders. A smile, crooked but genuine.
Speaker 1: Back then, I hadn't felt this undercurrent of anxiety about him.
Speaker 1: It was nearly midnight when the lock clicked and eas
Speaker 1: and stepped in. I straightened, shutting my laptop, trying to
Speaker 1: look casual. He was humming, of all things, like a
Speaker 1: man returning from something pleasant, not the weary paint splatter volunteer.
Speaker 1: There were blue and oak smudges on his hands, real
Speaker 1: paint for once, but his shirt was nearly spotless underneath
Speaker 1: the faint, mineral funk of city sweat. Another scent flash floral, expensive,
Speaker 1: not the woodsy cologne I knew. He tossed me a sheepish,
Speaker 1: breathless smile. Hey, sorry, did I wake you no, just working.
Speaker 1: I rose, crossing to greet him and leaning for a kiss.
Speaker 1: He met me warm, but his skin was strangely cool.
Speaker 1: He wrapped me in a half hug, then started toward
Speaker 1: the bathroom, peeling off his paints much tenderly. How to go?
Speaker 1: I trailed after him, keeping my tone light, Oh, good, good, crazy.
Speaker 1: Actually he dropped his back and I caught the glint
Speaker 1: of a gold pen in the side pocket, one I
Speaker 1: didn't recognize. We got held up trying to finish the
Speaker 1: last panel. Kier brought her airbrush, but it overheated, so
Speaker 1: we had to Well, it doesn't matter, it's done now. Kira.
Speaker 1: The name struck me as unfamiliar. Yeah, Kira, she's new,
Speaker 1: joined last week. Cool style. He lathered his hands, scrubbing
Speaker 1: paint away. He'd like her a think. I perched on
Speaker 1: the closed toilet watching him. Did you all get dinner?
Speaker 1: Just piezat a group thing? He dried his hands briskly,
Speaker 1: glanced at his reflection. Honestly, I'm starving. I could make
Speaker 1: you something. He shook his head distractedly. Naw, I'm too
Speaker 1: wired to eat. I just want to shower. A wash
Speaker 1: of silence stretched between us as the water pipe shut
Speaker 1: it on. I wandered back to the kitchen, poured us
Speaker 1: boast wine, and wondered at a disconnect crackling in the air.
Speaker 1: By the time he reappeared, towel around his neck. I
Speaker 1: tried again. You've got paint on your neck, I said lightly.
Speaker 1: He laughed, wept at it, and started telling a rambling story,
Speaker 1: but some one named Melvin, who'd lost his keys and
Speaker 1: locked the team out of the supply room. But details
Speaker 1: were hazy, as focus skipping, shifting too quickly from one
Speaker 1: topic to another. We climbed into bed, but he angled
Speaker 1: his body slightly away from me, thumbing absent mindedly through
Speaker 1: where the forecasts on his phone. I studied the line
Speaker 1: of his jaw where it met his pillow, the gentle
Speaker 1: slope of his shoulders, the way he didn't quite settle
Speaker 1: into the space I left for him any more. I
Speaker 1: listened to the city for a long time after he
Speaker 1: slipped into sleep. Car horns in the distance, a freight
Speaker 1: train cutting through three neighborhoods over my hand, curled around
Speaker 1: is under the blankets. I lay awake, thinking how odd
Speaker 1: it was that suddenly I felt like an US eider
Speaker 1: in my own marriage. If he'd met even and me
Speaker 1: two years ago, maybe even last spring, you'd think we
Speaker 1: were one of those insufferable couples every one rolls their
Speaker 1: eyes at, passionate about work, equally relentless in play, sometimes
Speaker 1: so tightly wound into each other's lives it was hard
Speaker 1: to tell where my network of friends ended and his began.
Speaker 1: I'd met Ethan at Ben's birth that he'd been sketching
Speaker 1: on a knapkin, quietly gleeful as people guessed what it was.
Speaker 1: A self portrait, but he'd drawn himself with three arms.
Speaker 1: I loved that, his sly sense of humor, the way
Speaker 1: he let his creativity outside ways in little gestures, rather
Speaker 1: than making a spectacle of it. He loved my sharp edges.
Speaker 1: He always told me my organization, my surgical efficiency when
Speaker 1: it came to wrangling dinner parties or planning last minute getaways.
Speaker 1: I tease him for his heat maps of favorite wine
Speaker 1: bars and his inability to pack with less than four
Speaker 1: pairs of shoes. In the early days, it worked me
Speaker 1: providing structure, him supplying the color. Our lives became tightly
Speaker 1: woven with the neighborhood Sunday brunches, turned into roofed up yogur,
Speaker 1: spontaneous game night's blood into holiday benders. If we had disagreements,
Speaker 1: they rarely lasted beyond coffee the next morning. Ethan had
Speaker 1: a gift for diffusing tension and forgiven quickly, though sometimes
Speaker 1: I wondered if his easyger and charm veiled impatience or
Speaker 1: quiet discontent. He claimed out and never really spoke to
Speaker 1: him that it was just a distraction for more tangible
Speaker 1: passion's architecture, urban design, a tactile stuff at city life.
Speaker 1: Maybe that was what drew me in the contradiction between
Speaker 1: his restless spirit and his dislike for empty ornament. We
Speaker 1: kept our finances mainly separate, and arrangement established so early
Speaker 1: that when people commented on it, we just shrunk and
Speaker 1: explained household account for the boring stuff, but bathrooms and
Speaker 1: bookshelves and cocktails were fair game for individual splurges. It
Speaker 1: was only sometimes, when scolding through Instagram late at night,
Speaker 1: after Ethan had fallen asleep beside me, that I'd worry
Speaker 1: he might not always be content with what we'd built,
Speaker 1: that some part of him might be looking for a
Speaker 1: jilt out of what I proudly called our perpetual calendar.
Speaker 1: There was that secret I'd once kept, a bad review
Speaker 1: from a client, a lost contract. I'd buried it out
Speaker 1: of pride, or maybe to avoid the concern in his
Speaker 1: voice when I told him things weren't perfect. I remembered
Speaker 1: how relieved I'd been when he never asked. Maybe that's
Speaker 1: why now that the patterns of secrecy felt painfully familiar.
Speaker 1: The next week was a procession of obligations, contracts to negotiate,
Speaker 1: some meetings, to chair, pitch, dick to submit. Eathan drifted
Speaker 1: through our apartment like a guess, always cheerful, always somehow
Speaker 1: just outside my reach. That Saturday morning, he made eggs
Speaker 1: and coffee, whistling as he sliced apples. I watched him
Speaker 1: chin in palm, heart hugging with a blend of suspicion,
Speaker 1: in guilt. If I'd become this person, reading meaning into
Speaker 1: the way he butter toast win Would it stop after breakfast?
Speaker 1: I asked, softly, Could I swing by the project site
Speaker 1: to day? I'd like to see what you've all been
Speaker 1: up to. He blanched, then recovered with a quick smile.
Speaker 1: You really don't need to. It's a mess. Paint everywhere,
Speaker 1: every one's distracted. Honestly, stay home and have a spa day.
Speaker 1: I'll take you when the main wall's done, promise. His
Speaker 1: voice was gentle but final. He bent to kiss my
Speaker 1: forehead and swept out with ale of you that left
Speaker 1: me blinking at the slam door. I spent the afternoon
Speaker 1: half heartedly working, half refreshing my texts. I tried to
Speaker 1: shake it off, telling myself it was healthy, frusty of
Speaker 1: separate spaces. But all evening I stewed replaying his words.
Speaker 1: Was I being ridiculous? Or was it strange that he
Speaker 1: suddenly wanted to keep that part of his life exclusively
Speaker 1: his Later a prieze Ethan let up as he described
Speaker 1: a project telling wild stories about Kir's mule missap, Melvin's
Speaker 1: ladder disaster, how Naudia had accidentally glued a paint Captain
Speaker 1: Ben's elbow. I realized I hadn't heard these stories before.
Speaker 1: The laughter around the table was polite, but carried a
Speaker 1: note of force. To meuse not. His eyes darted toward me.
Speaker 1: She looked wary, almost apologetic. I waited for an opening,
Speaker 1: tried to laugh along, but I couldn't catch the rhythm.
Speaker 1: Ethan seemed energized, effesive, more animated than I had seen
Speaker 1: him in months, but the details never quite matched the
Speaker 1: Ethan a ky The inside jokes landed just beyond my recall,
Speaker 1: leaving me excluded from a conversation i'd once have led.
Speaker 1: After we got home, I offered, if you need extra supplies,
Speaker 1: I could call some of my contacts. I know a
Speaker 1: guy who does paint at cost. Ethan's face flickered with
Speaker 1: irritation there and gone again. We're good, Really, Kira got
Speaker 1: everything on her discount. Besides, we're trying to be spontaneous.
Speaker 1: No planning, no schedules. He glanced at his watch. You
Speaker 1: always want to systematize everything, jewels. Let this be messy,
Speaker 1: I retreated, a hollow egforming in my chest. I stood
Speaker 1: in the kitchen after he'd gone to shower, knuckles white
Speaker 1: around a glass, wondering if I'd overstep, or if this
Speaker 1: bristling defensiveness was new. Was I making a big deal
Speaker 1: out of nothing, or was it odd objectively to be
Speaker 1: so obviously excluded from something? Absorbing his attention, I tried
Speaker 1: to shake it off. Maybe everyone needed a space that
Speaker 1: was just days after all, hadn't I kept business troubles
Speaker 1: from him, once convinced it was better than worrying him.
Speaker 1: Wasn't this just a phase? Still? When he turned in
Speaker 1: that night, I noticed he left his phone face down
Speaker 1: on the night scent a little too carefully. The next day,
Speaker 1: it was a swell of commitments for both of us,
Speaker 1: but the tremor of doubt lingud and my body like
Speaker 1: the ache after a sudden scare. I distracted myself as meetings,
Speaker 1: told myself to stop obsessing. It didn't work. By Wednesday,
Speaker 1: I was navigating the mundane dramas of work, but the
Speaker 1: background hum of discomfit grew shopper. I was waiting for
Speaker 1: a rad share after a client lunch, at least crolling
Speaker 1: through vemou to send my half for groceries when a
Speaker 1: name popped up Beneathan's history gait them. The note just
Speaker 1: said supplies. There were several payments over the last two weeks,
Speaker 1: each worded cryptically late night refuel a canvas run, a reimbursement,
Speaker 1: not all for huge sums, but enough to catch my eye.
Speaker 1: Some were paid from our joint account. I checked a calendar,
Speaker 1: Eason was at work. There was nothing about an art
Speaker 1: project's supply run on our shared Google's schedule, but plenty
Speaker 1: of late night at project side entries. I tried Naudia,
Speaker 1: texting her, how's mural progress? Miss seeing your face dinner
Speaker 1: sin Her reply, usually full of memes or voice notes,
Speaker 1: pinged back ten minutes later. Busy week projects good, Let's
Speaker 1: catch up when the dust settles, promise brief plight nothing
Speaker 1: like her. When Ethan got home, we barely overlapped. He
Speaker 1: duct in after Ate grabbed a sandwich and retreated. I
Speaker 1: noticed is lapped up open to a portfolio of glass towers,
Speaker 1: a building I knew he hated muttering when it won
Speaker 1: in a war of last year. Over dinner, I asked
Speaker 1: why the sudden interest in modernist towers? He shrugged. Oh,
Speaker 1: one of the project artists is thinking of incorporating urban
Speaker 1: skylind cilouettes. He tapped the screen. They wanted to Brainstone.
Speaker 1: I wanted to probe, to ask which artist, or even
Speaker 1: are you sure you're not up for doing our next
Speaker 1: dinner together? Instead of the mural. Instead, I changed the subjects.
Speaker 1: Following my doubt, Saturday, I made up my mind to
Speaker 1: go see the art project. I got their public park,
Speaker 1: low Stone Wall scaffoldingst a chain link barrier, expecting to
Speaker 1: find Ethan or at least a few familiar faces. Instead,
Speaker 1: I was greeted by neat rower supplies and a clean
Speaker 1: up crew. Two young guys in paint splotted sweatshirts. Ethan round.
Speaker 1: I asked casual the exchange glances he just left. One offered,
Speaker 1: said he had to run an errand he regarded me
Speaker 1: with mild puzzlement, then shrugged as if to say not
Speaker 1: my business. I texted Ethan dropped by side, sorry I
Speaker 1: miss you. No response for an hour, then left earlier
Speaker 1: than plan. Saw a crazy day. When I got home,
Speaker 1: the apartment was empty. His phone, which had always had
Speaker 1: a finger print on lock, now flashed a requirement for
Speaker 1: a six digit code. When I went to share a
Speaker 1: recipe with him that evening, I decided not to say anything. Instead,
Speaker 1: I told myself to focus on work, keep my head down.
Speaker 1: Ben's message, when it came was a welcome destruction coffee
Speaker 1: after work, need a breather. Ben was Ethan's friend technically,
Speaker 1: but over the past year he'd become more mine, a dry,
Speaker 1: self effacing voice of reason. I met him at our
Speaker 1: usual spot, grateful for familiar company. He was jittery, constantly
Speaker 1: checking his phone, hardly touching his coffee. How's the mur
Speaker 1: old Ben, I tried force bright, He offered a tight smile.
Speaker 1: Oh you know, everyone's in over their heads and pretending
Speaker 1: they aren't. Pause. He reached for his mug, then set
Speaker 1: it down abruptly. Sorry, Jewels, I have to run. Totally
Speaker 1: forgot I've got a day. He grabbed his messenger and
Speaker 1: all but bolted. I stared after him, something cold settling
Speaker 1: in my stomach. We'd met for coffee almost weekly for
Speaker 1: a year, and he'd never cut it shore before. I
Speaker 1: sent Ethan a calendar invite that evening neighborhood dinner at
Speaker 1: Prix as us seven' them. Two minutes later, a pop
Speaker 1: up a vent decline schedule conflict. I called Prior, who
Speaker 1: sounded distracted. I thought you guys counseled. It was just
Speaker 1: Ethan who showed, and he didn't stay long. Just Ethan,
Speaker 1: He told me it was still on that he be
Speaker 1: home late, even a Friday. When I asked, he claimed
Speaker 1: the crowded thinned early and he'd just gone up for
Speaker 1: a walk to clear his head. His tone was breezy,
Speaker 1: but I noticed his gaze slid away from mine. I'd
Speaker 1: never felt so completely wrong footed in my home. That night,
Speaker 1: I muster the courage to say, who's k M. You
Speaker 1: keep paying them for project's stuff. Ethan glanced up from
Speaker 1: his phone expression bland Kira. She offered to buy materials
Speaker 1: in bulk. I paid her back. It's not a big deal.
Speaker 1: Why did ye use our joint account, he frowned. I
Speaker 1: just clicked the wrong card. I guess I'll move the money.
Speaker 1: Don't worry. I let a drop, But the air between
Speaker 1: us grew brittle. I listened for his phone at night
Speaker 1: for the vibrate of new notifications for laughter muffled in
Speaker 1: the living room. When I woke in the dark, I'd
Speaker 1: find his sight of the bed empty, blue light from
Speaker 1: his phone spilling from under the bathroom door. He started
Speaker 1: coming home later and later. Sometimes I'd wake to the
Speaker 1: sound of his keys at two in the morning. His
Speaker 1: explanations were always the same, lost track of time. Akira
Speaker 1: needed help moving her installation. Every one stayed late group dinner.
Speaker 1: After one evening, brushing my teeth, I heard him on
Speaker 1: the phone in the other room. His voice was low,
Speaker 1: softer than he used with me. He laughed a kind
Speaker 1: of laugh I hadn't heard since we were dating. I
Speaker 1: stepped out. He caught my eye and en did the
Speaker 1: call in a heartbeat, mumbling, sorry, work thing. I wanted
Speaker 1: to believe him. I convinced myself I was losing touch,
Speaker 1: that my suspicion was a symptom of burnout. But the
Speaker 1: harder I tried to be rational, the more out of
Speaker 1: place I felt everywhere, in the chat with my friends,
Speaker 1: at our neighborhood gatherings, even in our own living room.
Speaker 1: It was as if everyone was on a joke. I
Speaker 1: couldn't quite decipher. One night after in specially tense dinner,
Speaker 1: Ethan turned to me as he loaded the dishrusher. But Julia,
Speaker 1: you've been quiet long week, I guess. He watched me,
Speaker 1: the weight of uns edwards, stretching the space between us. Finally,
Speaker 1: he just sighed, let's get some sleep in our bedroom.
Speaker 1: I stared at the ceiling catalog in the changes, the
Speaker 1: way he no longer left his phone out on the sofa,
Speaker 1: the number of times I found pins dang shirts I'd
Speaker 1: never seen before, the careful way he now avoided discussing
Speaker 1: the neuropastrophic platitudes, Several days later, I came home to
Speaker 1: find Eton standing by the window, gazing out over the city.
Speaker 1: He didn't seem to notice me at first. Lost in thought,
Speaker 1: I set my purse down worth to Ethan. He blinked, smiled,
Speaker 1: and crossed to me. Tench and melting away. Let's take
Speaker 1: a day trip this weekend, he suggested, just us, no obligations,
Speaker 1: no murals, nothing. I was caught off guard. Really, he nodded,
Speaker 1: eyes earnest. Yeah, feels like we haven't actually been together
Speaker 1: in ages. He was right. Maybe this was what I needed,
Speaker 1: a chance to reset, to stop interrogating every gesture. If
Speaker 1: I could let go, even for a little while, perhaps
Speaker 1: I could be the partner I wished. I was patient
Speaker 1: and secure. We drove north out of the city on Saturday,
Speaker 1: music up, windows down. He laughed more freely than he
Speaker 1: had in weeks. At a little roside park, he laid
Speaker 1: out a blanket and picnic, and for a while it
Speaker 1: almost felt like before him improvising jokes, me ribbing him
Speaker 1: for forgetting the forks. I watched his face as he
Speaker 1: poured wine, trying to tuck away the memories of tension
Speaker 1: and doubt. Determined to be present, as twid I deepened
Speaker 1: over a deserted beach. He squeezed my hand, speaking softly,
Speaker 1: I'm sorry. I've been so distracted. Work's just been hard
Speaker 1: to explain lately. Sometimes I feel like I'm fading into routine,
Speaker 1: like I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be. I
Speaker 1: tried to read his face. Is it beout at the
Speaker 1: office or the mural, I asked. He shook his head,
Speaker 1: brushing hair out of his eyes. No, it's not that exactly.
Speaker 1: I just needed something outside, out usual. I needed to
Speaker 1: remember what it felt like to do something new. But
Speaker 1: it's nothing for you to worry about, Julie, I promise.
Speaker 1: When he said my name that wailed low and warm.
Speaker 1: I wanted to believe him. That night, curled together in bed,
Speaker 1: I let myself relax for the first time in weeks.
Speaker 1: If Ethan promised there was nothing amiss, I told myself
Speaker 1: I should listen. I willed myself to let the dobts fade.
Speaker 1: But the following morning, as I pulled through his phone
Speaker 1: for a wedder app before run, a priefy flashed on
Speaker 1: the home screen. K M last night was incredible. Wish
Speaker 1: he didn't have to leave so early. X. My heart
Speaker 1: thought it so loudly, I thought you must hear it.
Speaker 1: For a moment, I was paralyzed, finger hovering over his messages.
Speaker 1: The phone snapped to the log screen. I set it down,
Speaker 1: hearing the show running. All the relief of the day
Speaker 1: before tisted, dissolving into a hot, sharp fear. We passed
Speaker 1: the next few days in halting bliteness, me picking at
Speaker 1: our routines, Ethan suddenly prone to one predictable warm, then
Speaker 1: subtle distance. On the outside, we looked the same, two professionals,
Speaker 1: jumbling the endless moving parts of life. Inside I was
Speaker 1: rapidly unraveling. I tried to make sense of it. Maybe
Speaker 1: the message was innocent, to joke, a misunderstanding, or maybe not.
Speaker 1: I sat down at my laptop and started my own investigation. First,
Speaker 1: ethanshev projects schedule. I copied his mural calendar into my planet,
Speaker 1: mapping out which knights had been stuck working late. Then
Speaker 1: the Vemma payments. Every time Kihem got a repayment, it
Speaker 1: matched a mural night. A few times, the sums increased
Speaker 1: on week ends, usually with an emoji or a cryptic phrase.
Speaker 1: A cross checked social media trolling through tags and captions
Speaker 1: on the Murau's account Whenever k M, now confirmed as
Speaker 1: kure M, a striking ady artist whose instagram was full
Speaker 1: of self portraits and studio shots, was featured in a
Speaker 1: story repose Ethan's late nights coincided precisely. I hit a
Speaker 1: wall when I realized how carefully and thoroughly my circle
Speaker 1: of friends had withdrawn naughty, especially when I called her.
Speaker 1: The call rang and rang before dropping to voice melt.
Speaker 1: Her text reply minutes later swamped, Can I call T
Speaker 1: M R W? Then, too suddenly drifted our usual snocky
Speaker 1: mime thread, dying with an emoji and nothing else. I
Speaker 1: tried to broach the subject with Ethan one night, pushing
Speaker 1: a little. You spend a lot of time with care
Speaker 1: these days. Each you must really click. Ethan's face grew unreadable.
Speaker 1: She's knew she needs the help, that's all. What are
Speaker 1: you jealous? Of course? Not allied painfully a where that
Speaker 1: part of me was. He's coughed. I thought you appreciated
Speaker 1: that I finally tried something unstructured. Isn't that what you
Speaker 1: always said? I needed it? Shut down the conversation, but
Speaker 1: now awaken the small hours. A replayed every interaction. Ethan
Speaker 1: slipped details, no dis evasiveness, Bend's abrupt coffee, except the
Speaker 1: barrage of friendly exclusion at every gathering. One night after
Speaker 1: Ethan dosed off, I lowed into our joint count a
Speaker 1: page through transactions, cross referencing with my own memory. More
Speaker 1: than one expense had gone to any unitemized till k
Speaker 1: M till the upproject. Others were from Ile's ubis supply runs,
Speaker 1: no receipts, no calls for reimbursement. In the shared message
Speaker 1: forreds I'd seen with other group members, I hesitated. Was
Speaker 1: it neurotic to keep digging? What was I protecting myself
Speaker 1: by finally facing what had been quietly, carefully kept from me.
Speaker 1: By the end of that weekend, exhaustion washed through every
Speaker 1: corner of my mind. I went walking at dusk, washing
Speaker 1: my shadows stretch across sidewalks I'd run down a hundred
Speaker 1: times with Ethan, our home, our friends, every familiar cafe
Speaker 1: and corner store. Suddenly felt stage are till to slightly askew.
Speaker 1: Monday morning, with Ethan gone for an early mural prep,
Speaker 1: I sat on the balcony with my coffee, staring at
Speaker 1: the sky. Line. Maybe the problem was me too controlling
Speaker 1: to incline to organize and skilled at letting chaos in
Speaker 1: had I drifted so far from the person even felt
Speaker 1: for that he needed someone new to recognize him. I
Speaker 1: was so lost in this thought that my phone buzzed,
Speaker 1: startling me. It was Nadja, finally returning my plea for coffee.
Speaker 1: She suggested a corner bakery at an odd hour, early
Speaker 1: before work, before meetings, before she might run into anyone else.
Speaker 1: I got there first, ordered as both cappuccinos, and fidgeted
Speaker 1: with the sleeves of my sweater. When she arrived, she
Speaker 1: looked strained, hugging me quickly, her usual sparkled themed. We
Speaker 1: talked about everything but the obvious for fifteen minutes, mutual
Speaker 1: complaints about work, neighbor, her gossip, even an awkward laugh
Speaker 1: about Ben's new TikTok obsession. I sat down my mug.
Speaker 1: I know something is going on, Noda. Please, I need
Speaker 1: you to be straight with me. She went pale, her
Speaker 1: hand tightening around her cup so hard the knuckles blanched. Julia,
Speaker 1: I can't, you can't we you feel like you shouldn't.
Speaker 1: My voice shook, but I forced myself to meet her eyes.
Speaker 1: She looked away, struggling for words. I hate this. I
Speaker 1: hate being in the middle you anything. I love you both,
Speaker 1: YE know that. But look, I shouldn't be telling you anything.
Speaker 1: I pressed on, voiced just above a whisper. Is a cure.
Speaker 1: She shut her eyes. I shouldn't say anything, Jules. Tears
Speaker 1: pricked at the back of my eyes as I tried
Speaker 1: to stay composed. Please Noda, I deserve to know. After
Speaker 1: a long pause, she nodded. Misery etched in every line
Speaker 1: of her face. He's been spending a lot of time
Speaker 1: with her. It's not just the mural. Okay. I don't
Speaker 1: know anything for sure, but I think something happened. I'm
Speaker 1: so sorry. The confirmation, even vague, was both a relief
Speaker 1: and a lance through my chest. I reached a cross
Speaker 1: to grip her hand. Thank you, I whisper for a
Speaker 1: sort of gratitude, then hollow pain. We parted awkwardly, with
Speaker 1: Nodgy warning me not to confront Ethan. Not yet, give
Speaker 1: it a day, she pleaded, just think it's rue. Ok.
Speaker 1: That afternoon, as I sorted laundry, I pic shirts and
Speaker 1: genes of Ethans that still smelled faintly of paint, of
Speaker 1: that unfamiliar perfume. I found a restaurant maceeat tucked in
Speaker 1: a pocketear reservation at a place we'd always said was
Speaker 1: a special occasion. Only two glasses of wine, two entrees.
Speaker 1: The bill charged his personal account the date match one
Speaker 1: of the late mural nights up at the laundry aside,
Speaker 1: and sat for a long time on the floor, staring
Speaker 1: at the receipt, letting memories wash up like broken glass.
Speaker 1: Our anniversary dinners, promises to always talk the time he
Speaker 1: let me in on a work secret, because I'd rather
Speaker 1: you be in a loop than ever have a reason
Speaker 1: to doubt me. My mind fluttered back to all those
Speaker 1: warning signs lately, Ethan's defensiveness, the faint perfume, the hesitants
Speaker 1: when I mentioned Kura, the love bombing at the day trip,
Speaker 1: even our friends bent, always disappearing when I brought up
Speaker 1: the mural, pre mentioning in passing that Ethan really puts
Speaker 1: his soul into projects with pretty people. Maybe it was
Speaker 1: a joke, Maybe it wasn't. That evening, Ethan came home
Speaker 1: as if nothing had changed, pouring himself a glass of
Speaker 1: wine and asking want to finally watch that French movie
Speaker 1: or my in for another date to night. I couldn't answer,
Speaker 1: not yet. I followed him to the kitchen and set
Speaker 1: plates for dinner in silence. My mind was made up.
Speaker 1: I would not be silent for ever, but first I
Speaker 1: needed to know exactly what I was confronting, and despite
Speaker 1: all my work, I still didn't have the halt truth.
Speaker 1: Not yet. I tried to eat, but the fork felt
Speaker 1: heavy in my hand. Every by dust dry. Ethan rattled
Speaker 1: on about some podcast as he plaited the pasta sprinkling
Speaker 1: cheese with absent minded precision. Do you want pepper, he asked,
Speaker 1: and in the split second between my nod and his
Speaker 1: hand on the grinder, I realized I didn't remember the
Speaker 1: last time we cooked together. The ritual felt wrong, as
Speaker 1: if some vital ingredient, trust maybe, had been quietly swapped
Speaker 1: out for something unpalatable. Half Way through the film, Ethan
Speaker 1: dozed off, had tilted back against the couch. I stared
Speaker 1: at him, searching for the man I'd known, the one
Speaker 1: who'd made me braver, who had once insisted on toasting
Speaker 1: to the next big thing, even when neither of us
Speaker 1: had a clue what that meant to night. He was
Speaker 1: just another outline in a room where nothing quite fit.
Speaker 1: I shut the movie off mid credit and padded to
Speaker 1: the bathroom. The quiet pressed in, amplifying every drip from
Speaker 1: the leaking faucet, every vibration of the upstairs neighbor's footsteps.
Speaker 1: I leaned in to examine my own face. The woman
Speaker 1: in the mere looked years older than I felt. Shoulders hunched,
Speaker 1: door clenched, eyes were in pink. I barely recognized myself
Speaker 1: as I brushed my teeth. A thought flickered, a compulsory
Speaker 1: obsessive about cure social media. I'd only met her once,
Speaker 1: at the Mule's Kick party, and even then she seemed
Speaker 1: like the kind of person who'd stepped into a conversation
Speaker 1: and bend it softly around herself, Magnetic but slightly dangerous.
Speaker 1: I dismissed my discomfort as envy. Now I wondered what
Speaker 1: else my instincts had been trying to tell me. Throne
Speaker 1: in hand, I retreated to the living room, lowering the brightness,
Speaker 1: just in case eat and sleep was light. Pierre's feed
Speaker 1: was relentless snapshots of painfect wrists, blowry half faces. At midnight,
Speaker 1: A flurry of inside jokes with obscure tags and city
Speaker 1: landmarks in the comments. Mutual friends chimed in, but all
Speaker 1: strangers circumspect, no mention of he's indirectly, just cryptic exchanges.
Speaker 1: A hot here ACU tomorrow there. Curiosity drove me deeper.
Speaker 1: I searched for tags, stories, gew tags. There, a boomerang
Speaker 1: from three nights ago, mural wall in the background, and
Speaker 1: a swinging hand barely in the frame. Paint spattered, hard
Speaker 1: to see, but I knew that old leather watchedrap Ethen's
Speaker 1: My pulse hammered. He told me he left the sight early,
Speaker 1: that he grabbed dinner alone. Yet there he was caught
Speaker 1: in some one else's narrative, A flood of anger at him,
Speaker 1: at myself, at the old nearness of its werew so
Speaker 1: swiftly and nearly gagged. Was I losing my mind or
Speaker 1: just finally seeing things as they were? I tucked my
Speaker 1: knees to my chest and waited for Ethan to stare
Speaker 1: at rehearsing in my head a dozen ways to broach it,
Speaker 1: all of them doomed to sound either accused, tory, or
Speaker 1: pathetically insecure. By the time he woke it was after midnight.
Speaker 1: He blinked, smiled, Hey, I must have sunk out movie
Speaker 1: any good. I considered lying, but something slippery escaped anyway.
Speaker 1: You know, I saw that mural post to look like
Speaker 1: you were in the background. My voice sounded tending to
Speaker 1: my own. He squinted as he stretched. Was I ha,
Speaker 1: Maybe people are always snapping picks. I don't really notice,
Speaker 1: he yawned, broad, uneasy as ever, what's with the face jewels?
Speaker 1: Did I say I'd be somewhere else or something my
Speaker 1: verrute ride. No, just wondering if you had fawn, That's all.
Speaker 1: He grinned, stood and swept the blanket onto the arm
Speaker 1: of the couch, come to bed like nothing at all
Speaker 1: had passed between us. When he slept, I lay there,
Speaker 1: staring up at the ceiling, trying to map up my
Speaker 1: next move. I thought about texting naughty again or Ben,
Speaker 1: but my pride wouldn't let me. I resolved to give
Speaker 1: em one more chance to tell the truth, or, failing that,
Speaker 1: to make a decision of my own. The following morning,
Speaker 1: when Ethan left for an early sight meeting, I told
Speaker 1: myself to focus on something other than this endless puzzle.
Speaker 1: But as I reached for my work laptop. I spotted
Speaker 1: his sketch book, poking from under a pile of receipts
Speaker 1: he always carried. Why had he left it behind to day?
Speaker 1: I hesitated, then, feeling vaguely ashamed, pulled it out and
Speaker 1: flipped it open. First pages were nothing unusual, loose renderings
Speaker 1: of buildings, quick notes about sight, lines or shadow. But
Speaker 1: then midway through a half finished sketch of what must
Speaker 1: have been the mural, my eye caught fine, careful pencil portraiture,
Speaker 1: a mistake of the curate captured, and lines far gentler
Speaker 1: than Ethan ever used for his mock ups. He never
Speaker 1: drew people, not really. The dates grobbled below was from
Speaker 1: last week. He yelp prickled at my intrusion, but the
Speaker 1: tangle of confusion and resentment inside me swelled. I snapped
Speaker 1: the sketch closed, hand shaking, and shoved it back. I
Speaker 1: walked to the kitchen, eyes unfocussed, and nearly walked straight
Speaker 1: into Benwell not Ben himself, of course, but a memory
Speaker 1: of him the last time he'd looked at me so uncomfortably,
Speaker 1: when we'd run into each other at the book a
Speaker 1: few days back. Hey, jewels, he called Shipper, but with
Speaker 1: a sort of dislocated brightness. I paused by the coffee fridge.
Speaker 1: I barely see you any more, you living on red
Speaker 1: Bull and regret o what he'd laugh, But it was wrong.
Speaker 1: You know how these community things are. Every one's up
Speaker 1: their own ass, and there's too much sugar in everything.
Speaker 1: In hindsight, he'd kept glancing toward the door. Ye okay,
Speaker 1: I'd asked, and he'd waved it off, pulling his ch
Speaker 1: Yaca closer. Just tired, you know anyway, God a jet
Speaker 1: tell Ethan, I say hey. At the time, I assumed
Speaker 1: he was just busy. Now I wondered, did everyone know Buttony?
Speaker 1: My phone buzzed. The neighborhood group tat dormant since the
Speaker 1: art project launched, a handful of messages, rap Party postponed,
Speaker 1: worse the new sign up. She curiously no word from me, think,
Speaker 1: Though he'd usually handle logistics, Nudget popped him with a
Speaker 1: short check with Kira. My thumbs hovered, I'm sure if
Speaker 1: I should wander in with some overly cheery comment or
Speaker 1: let the red eye in digital silence. I ended up
Speaker 1: not responding. Instead, I walked over to my laptop lowered
Speaker 1: into our chief calendar and cross reference to hedn schedule
Speaker 1: mural nights in the days he'd come home late, each
Speaker 1: correlating perfectly with Keira's late night bursts, her public profiles,
Speaker 1: often gushing about project breakthroughs and city at midnight, always
Speaker 1: wisely vague about who else was there. Each time, Ethan's
Speaker 1: name missing from any group tags, nobody posting candid shots
Speaker 1: like they used to. Were they keeping him out? Or
Speaker 1: was he ducking out of photos? Knowing what the rumors
Speaker 1: would feed the phrase, I kept circling like a is
Speaker 1: this how I'd hide something? And worse, even if I
Speaker 1: was the outsider, would I notice? Fighting a fresh flush
Speaker 1: of shame, I told myself to focus on the external,
Speaker 1: not my own failings. That evening, after dinner, I asked
Speaker 1: Ethan if still going to the mural tomorrow? Right? He
Speaker 1: didn't look up from his phone. Yeah, we're meeting early.
Speaker 1: Trying to get a jump on the new panel. His
Speaker 1: fingers danced across the screen half a message, Then, sensing
Speaker 1: my gaze, he switched it off. I tried to pry
Speaker 1: it careful, determined not to tip my hand. Yet Kire
Speaker 1: seemed to be running the show that she called to
Speaker 1: work with. He offered a non committal shrug. She's intense.
Speaker 1: I guess you'd probably get along. You two should meet
Speaker 1: some time. Maybe I'll come by tomorrow drop off coffee.
Speaker 1: He hesitated, ever so slightly. I don't know if we'll
Speaker 1: be at the wall. Might be a curious studio. She's
Speaker 1: got the abor she liked. My heart thudded a meager
Speaker 1: for smile. Though cool, maybe another time, he nodded, returning
Speaker 1: to his fallnest, sheepish half smile, as if waiting for
Speaker 1: my disapproval. As night fell, A scold again through pass
Speaker 1: photos of us are roofed up dinners, the summer street festivals,
Speaker 1: the trips where we ate too much and slept too little.
Speaker 1: I let memory run riot, trying to remember when the
Speaker 1: divide had grown too wide to cross. Maybe it was
Speaker 1: me hypertuned cracks no one else could see, while maybe
Speaker 1: I told myself for the first time the cracks were
Speaker 1: real and spreading fast. The next morning, the need for
Speaker 1: certainty finally upweighed my embarrassment. I pulled up a right chair,
Speaker 1: app and keyed and cure as studio address cripped from
Speaker 1: her social buyer. As I stood outside the industrial building,
Speaker 1: I didn't really know what I was expecting to find,
Speaker 1: only that I need to proof one way or another.
Speaker 1: Inside the building was sullen, except for a faint buzz
Speaker 1: of music spilling under a half cracked door. I approached,
Speaker 1: peering through the gas. No ethan, no sound of voices,
Speaker 1: just here alone, a huge canvas, ear funds and splattering
Speaker 1: paint with restless energy. I watched, feeling oddly intrusive until
Speaker 1: she guanced up and noticed me, Oh, hey, do you
Speaker 1: need something. Her eyes flicked to my left hand, the ring,
Speaker 1: then back up with an inscrutable smile, taking off guard.
Speaker 1: I stammered, sorry, I was just in in the neighborhood.
Speaker 1: Ethan said he'd be working here. A flicker gone so
Speaker 1: fast I almost missed it. He came back to drop
Speaker 1: off some brushes earlier, but at to ron, he just
Speaker 1: missed him. I tried to sound casual. Yeah, he mentioned
Speaker 1: studio stuff, the mules turning out fantastic. She stepped back,
Speaker 1: wiping her hands on overalls. Thanks team effort. Your husband's
Speaker 1: got an eye, you know. Funny. He always said art
Speaker 1: wasn't his thing. I guess there's a first for everything,
Speaker 1: she smiled, something sly, curling at the edge. Guess so
Speaker 1: anywhen I'm just finishing up so an unmistakable cue to
Speaker 1: leave outside the street fell cold out. My suspicions now
Speaker 1: half asset, half nausea. Maybe it was nothing, Maybe Ethan
Speaker 1: really had been gone, or maybe she was covering for
Speaker 1: him or herself. Either way, I'd seen the weariness in
Speaker 1: her posture, that discomfort she tried to hide. I wanted
Speaker 1: to talk to Ben, but after a last encounter, I
Speaker 1: knew he'd just dodged. Noda too, was likely circling her
Speaker 1: own guilt. If I couldn't trust either of them for clarity,
Speaker 1: I'd have to look elsewhere. I started trailing Ethan's digital
Speaker 1: brook crumbs again. I pulled vemmo to gulled through every transaction,
Speaker 1: each time meticulously, and noted it. Every note to Kira
Speaker 1: or kay M encrypted in a way clearly meant for
Speaker 1: both of them, not others. I checked my own statement,
Speaker 1: found a few charges for places Ethan had never taken me,
Speaker 1: all clustered around the same window of time as as
Speaker 1: long as mural nights. That evening, I came home to
Speaker 1: find Ethan showering After another supposed prip night, I wandered
Speaker 1: into the bedroom, folding laundry to steady myself. Among his shirts,
Speaker 1: I found another item I hadn't noticed before, A slim
Speaker 1: white tea faint marks of rose, and took across the hem,
Speaker 1: smelling unmistakably of the same puffy i'd caught the night
Speaker 1: he'd come home late. Not just soap, not detergent, something expensive,
Speaker 1: floral assent for late night adventure. My hand gripped the
Speaker 1: fabricita then necessary. When Ethan emerged, I played it cool.
Speaker 1: How was to night? He toweled right his hair with
Speaker 1: quick nervous motions. Fine, just long, Melvin nest up the
Speaker 1: paint drip again. He paused, catching his breath. I think
Speaker 1: I'll crash early, heads pounding. I wanted to throw the
Speaker 1: shirt at him, scream, accuse him of everything I'd been
Speaker 1: stacking in the ladger of my private rage. Instead, I
Speaker 1: offered a brittle hope you feel better, and finish, folded
Speaker 1: my back to him. After lights were out, the city
Speaker 1: hunders always, but there was no comfort in routine, only
Speaker 1: a scent of spiral in towards something I didn't want
Speaker 1: to name. His sleep was restless, breathing uneven, as though
Speaker 1: he could feel the current swirling between us. The next morning,
Speaker 1: Ben texted again, boroughly coffee, desperate for a lifeline. I agree,
Speaker 1: meeting him around the block from the Mural, deliberately to
Speaker 1: see where Ethan might end up. Ben looked tired, his
Speaker 1: eyes flitting from my face to the door. I just
Speaker 1: need to ask you something straight, I said, quietly, clutching
Speaker 1: my cup. He hesitated, then shook his head. Julia is
Speaker 1: Ethan seeing some one. The words came out cold and clear,
Speaker 1: louder than I meant, but he didn't flinch. He hesitated,
Speaker 1: thumb working's seam of a sleeve. Look, it's not my place,
Speaker 1: but I think he's confused. People make mistakes, jewels, That's
Speaker 1: all I'm gonna say. My hand shook so hard I
Speaker 1: nearly spilled my coffee. It's currror, isn't it. He looked awake.
Speaker 1: I'm not. I can't say. I shouldn't even be talking.
Speaker 1: Please don't drag me into this, o K. I nodded,
Speaker 1: biting back tears. Thanks Ben. We parted without another word,
Speaker 1: his guilt radiating as he strode off That night, with
Speaker 1: the city slipping towards sleep and Ethanov again for final
Speaker 1: mural touches. I called Nadia. She didn't answer. I texted,
Speaker 1: I know. Please just tell me if I'm being crazy,
Speaker 1: she replied. After a long half hour meet me at
Speaker 1: the park tomorrow sixamp. Don't mention to ethan I barely slept,
Speaker 1: nerves jangling with expectancy in dread. When the time came,
Speaker 1: the city was still dressing itself for the day, the
Speaker 1: skyline gray and bruised, birds testing the air. Nadia was
Speaker 1: already waiting at a cold shadowed bench. She looked exhausted.
Speaker 1: You wanted the truth, she said, rubbing her forehead. I
Speaker 1: don't know details, but yes, there's something. I think it's
Speaker 1: been going on for a while. I just didn't want
Speaker 1: to break your heart. Jewels. My breath left me in
Speaker 1: a gust, as if something inside collapsed. Imered, Thank you,
Speaker 1: I whispered, even as grief washed in. Back home, I
Speaker 1: sat at the kitchen table, peace together. What I collected
Speaker 1: suret receipts, the cryptic femo history, digital brig crumbs, the sketches,
Speaker 1: the absence though whar he looks from friends, It formed
Speaker 1: a jagged obli misaic I messaged Ethan dinner at home
Speaker 1: to night. His response was quick, Sure, I'll be back
Speaker 1: by seven. The rest of the day passed in a blair.
Speaker 1: I couldn't concentrate on work. I couldn't sit still. Part
Speaker 1: of me wanted to lay at all bare at once,
Speaker 1: to force some reckoning. Another part, terrified, wanted to run
Speaker 1: back to ignorance or at least peace. I cooked, chopping
Speaker 1: vegetables far too roughly. When Nathan walked in, he looked
Speaker 1: surprised to find the table set for two. Wow, fancy,
Speaker 1: what's the occasion? It just felt right, I lied, and
Speaker 1: as I watched him pour a glass of wine, I
Speaker 1: noted the subtle hesitation and his step the lag, as
Speaker 1: if weighing the ground between us. Dinner was polite, stiff.
Speaker 1: He talked about the mural's progress, about Melvin, about how
Speaker 1: the neighborhood was finally coming together. I nodded, letting the
Speaker 1: gaps between his words widen into something I knew I'd
Speaker 1: have to cross soon. Dessert cleared, dishes soaked, I set
Speaker 1: my wine down and looked him in I do you
Speaker 1: love me, Ethan? The question caught him off guard. Jewels,
Speaker 1: of course, I do where is this coming from. I
Speaker 1: waited for a bee, watching his face, trying to see
Speaker 1: if anything would break through his practice. Ees, I just
Speaker 1: I want you to be honest with me, I said,
Speaker 1: my voice trembling. If there is something you need to say,
Speaker 1: you should say it. A flicker of something, regret perhaps,
Speaker 1: or fear passed over his face. It's just been stressful, Jewels,
Speaker 1: the project work everything. He's a cure, I pressed gently.
Speaker 1: He looked down at the table. She's just a friend.
Speaker 1: We collaborate. Well, that's all. I wanted to believe him,
Speaker 1: but the evidence piled at my back kept me rooted
Speaker 1: in doubt. I exhaled, feeling for the first time the
Speaker 1: false circumference of the wedge driven between us. Later, after
Speaker 1: he fell asleep, I sat up at the kitchen island phone,
Speaker 1: a light crolling through every bit of digital residue. I
Speaker 1: could find every message, every transfer, at every image. It
Speaker 1: was all there if you looked closely, a pattern, a trail,
Speaker 1: a slow out, silent and doing. The final proof wasn't
Speaker 1: in a single message or picture, but in the totality
Speaker 1: and accumulation of a mission. A thousand little betrayals dreaded
Speaker 1: through weeks conversations and silences outside the city pulse and
Speaker 1: shifted inside. I began preparing my own plan, readying myself
Speaker 1: for the confrontation I'd been circling for weeks. There would
Speaker 1: be no peace until truth was spoken, whatever it did
Speaker 1: to the bedrock of what we had built. The question
Speaker 1: was no longer if, but how much I was willing
Speaker 1: to lose in hearing everything laid bare. I barely slept
Speaker 1: that night. Every hour sharpened the edges of my thoughts,
Speaker 1: until dawn crept, passed the blinds, slicing the city into
Speaker 1: dug gold and concrete blue. I paced the kitchen, my
Speaker 1: mug clutched tight, feeling as if I was poised up
Speaker 1: of cold water, and only just realizing how high I climbed.
Speaker 1: There was a clarity I hadn't felt in weeks, a
Speaker 1: kind of resolve that pricked at my exhaustion. I couldn't
Speaker 1: keep circling suspicion forever. I was done living in between.
Speaker 1: I shore changed and sat at the breakfast bar, scrolling
Speaker 1: through my books in a half hearted attempt at normalcy.
Speaker 1: The residue of Ethan's absence, his coffee mug dry in
Speaker 1: the sink, the lingering note of unfamiliar perfume semed louder. Now,
Speaker 1: like the apartment itself, was tired of bearing our silence.
Speaker 1: Mid morning, I emailed my boss and venting enough were
Speaker 1: called to buy myself two days free from meetings and
Speaker 1: client calls. I couldn't face the world outside until I knew,
Speaker 1: with out he certainty where I stood. Eaton texted mid morning,
Speaker 1: do you want me to bring anything home to night?
Speaker 1: I read it twice, the kind of domestic empty question
Speaker 1: he'd have sent before, only now it landed like an insult.
Speaker 1: I typed and deleted a dozen replies, then settled on
Speaker 1: just be home by seven. He wrote back a thumbs
Speaker 1: up emoji. I stared at the tiny gliff until my
Speaker 1: vision blurred. By mid afternoon, I'd sorted all his laundry,
Speaker 1: stacked his replacement sketch books in a neat pile, and
Speaker 1: gathered fragments of evidence into folder tap behind a box
Speaker 1: of winter scarves. In the whole closet. I wanted and
Speaker 1: needy to plan so i'd have something to steady myself
Speaker 1: when my heart inevitably wabbled, I rehearsed what I'd say
Speaker 1: every time I resolved flickered, the lions looping neatly through
Speaker 1: my head as I tried to eat, failed, tried again.
Speaker 1: I thought about texting Naughty again for support, to warn
Speaker 1: her to seek some message of solidarity, but shaymore, maybe
Speaker 1: pride held me back. This was between Ethan and me.
Speaker 1: By the time six thirty rolled around, I was half
Speaker 1: way through cho upping vegetables for dinner, but my hands
Speaker 1: moved with up memory. My mind kept running the image
Speaker 1: of cirrus sly smile in the studio, of the flash
Speaker 1: of Ethan's name on her Instagram from weeks before. The
Speaker 1: string of FEMO payments encoded to me nothing to anyone
Speaker 1: but them. Outside the city rumbled into dusk. I set
Speaker 1: the table for two and realized, in a strange, almost
Speaker 1: comic moment of clarity, that I peeled the carrot's tooth in.
Speaker 1: The door opened at six fifty eight with a brush
Speaker 1: of cold air and the sound of Ethan's keys and
Speaker 1: the console. He entered with a perfunctory hay and the
Speaker 1: particular courtesy of someone who knows they are arriving into
Speaker 1: enemy territory. He looked tired, cheeks flushed from the wind,
Speaker 1: hair suck up and brush tufts. I watched as he
Speaker 1: hunched out of his coat, eyes flicking to the picture
Speaker 1: frames on the shelf. The shoes jumbled in the entryway.
Speaker 1: If he noticed the tension in the air, he ignored it.
Speaker 1: Maybe he needed to pretend a little longer. Something smells good,
Speaker 1: he said, voice of fraction too bright, as he poked
Speaker 1: his head into the kitchen. You didn't have to sit,
Speaker 1: I interrupted, gesturing to his steel. He paused, eybras raised,
Speaker 1: but didn't argue. He sat folding his hands, and I
Speaker 1: found myself searching his face for some flicker of contrition,
Speaker 1: some wary teal. He just looked tired. I pleaded the food.
Speaker 1: He ate, mechanically, watching me over the rim of his glass. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: every clink of cut lerry felt staged, every swallow amplified.
Speaker 1: We barely spoke. When Ethan tried to tell a story
Speaker 1: about Ben's disaster at the mural. I shook my head. Ethen,
Speaker 1: I said, quietly, let's not pretend. He stilled fork poise
Speaker 1: me dere I let the silence fill the space, letting
Speaker 1: him sweat. He said, ye, be honest with me. This
Speaker 1: is a moment. His jaw flexed Jules. I cut him
Speaker 1: before ye could gather steam. I know about Kira that
Speaker 1: it's not just the project. I know about the dinners.
Speaker 1: I know you changed your phone password. I know you've
Speaker 1: been lying. His eyes widened, then shuddered over retreat and
Speaker 1: behind it panic. What do you mean? The old Ethan
Speaker 1: would have cracked a Jokia. This Ethan's voice was cool,
Speaker 1: almost brutle. I slid the receipt from my pocket, the
Speaker 1: one with the dinner and the wine. He told me
Speaker 1: you were working late, I said, but this was a
Speaker 1: reservation for two at Cirkaida. You hate Circada, remember. He
Speaker 1: stared at the slip, face drained, then looked at me
Speaker 1: as if I was a riddle the jewels. It's not,
Speaker 1: but the words died. I pressed, voice steady than I expected. Vemmer.
Speaker 1: You're a shirt with her perfume every late night, matching
Speaker 1: her posts. You're not that good a liar, Ethan. I
Speaker 1: just didn't want to see it. His mouth worked at
Speaker 1: a defense, then sagged ayn he couldn't find it. We
Speaker 1: sat in the close kitchen, bry silence, breathing in the
Speaker 1: smell of burnt onions and resentment. It's not what you
Speaker 1: think he tried, voice trembling on the edge of collapse.
Speaker 1: It wasn't planned, it just happened to How does something
Speaker 1: like this just happen? I demanded, voice rising. You don't
Speaker 1: respect a boundary once by accident. You did it because
Speaker 1: you wanted something you thought you'd lost with me. He
Speaker 1: shook his head, striggin'. I wasn't looking for it, Jewels,
Speaker 1: I care. I was just she listened. She made me
Speaker 1: feel He stopped scene. I supplied acid, lacing my voice.
Speaker 1: He winced. Maybe I needed that. I don't no, I
Speaker 1: just lately I feel like I'm just an extra in
Speaker 1: your schedule, like everything we do is already decided for us.
Speaker 1: And then here she made me remember I could surprise myself.
Speaker 1: Surprise yourself by lying, I hes, choking on the word.
Speaker 1: He ran a shaking hand over his face. No, yes,
Speaker 1: I don't know any more. That was stupid. I let
Speaker 1: her get too far, and I tried to end it,
Speaker 1: but then I didn't want to lose either of you.
Speaker 1: Don't you dare put this on me? My voice was
Speaker 1: cracked and cold. I asked, I begged you to be honest.
Speaker 1: You made me feel crazy, Ethan Even our friends started
Speaker 1: acting like I was a problem. His shoulders hunched so
Speaker 1: small now under the kitchen lamp. Late, finally, he let
Speaker 1: his hands fall limply into his lap. I ruined it,
Speaker 1: he whispered. Neither of us moved. The distance between us
Speaker 1: was sudden and infinite. He tried one last time, but
Speaker 1: maybe maybe we could fix it, if you could just it.
Speaker 1: I recoiled before he could finish. I don't know if
Speaker 1: I can. Tears drapped down my face before I even
Speaker 1: knew this started. He reached for me, then let his
Speaker 1: hand drop, staring at the spot on the table where
Speaker 1: mine might have been. We sat together a long time,
Speaker 1: the weight of everything and spoke, impressing us down. There
Speaker 1: were no more confessions, no more justifications, left, only the heavy,
Speaker 1: necessary silence of something dying. All at once. I shivered,
Speaker 1: noticing how late it had become, how the city outside
Speaker 1: had slipped into black. The only thing left was clarity, terrible, welcome, absolute.
Speaker 1: After what felt like I was maybe just minutes, I
Speaker 1: cleared my throat. You need to leave to night, Ethan.
Speaker 1: I'll pack a bag for you. He nodded, swallowing painfully.
Speaker 1: Where should I go? Bends? Where nod is anywhere but here.
Speaker 1: He rose, gathering himself, but then faltered the jewels eye.
Speaker 1: I raised a hand, barely steady. Don't not right now? Please?
Speaker 1: He nodded, then trudged toward the bedroom, closing the door
Speaker 1: gently behind him. I listened as he zipped a duffel,
Speaker 1: The fabrics rauspimbarably loud. I stood in the kitchen, hands
Speaker 1: flat on the counter, drawing each breath with care. My
Speaker 1: mind rate the logistics, what to tell work, where to
Speaker 1: stash his toilet trees, whether I'd have to field awkward
Speaker 1: text from friends who'd known all along. I realized, in
Speaker 1: a strain detached way that even in heartbreak, there was
Speaker 1: a sword of relief, no more searching, no more second guessing,
Speaker 1: just the hollow certainty of the truth echoing through every room.
Speaker 1: When eitherm emerged, duffel in hand, he paused, face slack
Speaker 1: with grief. Do you want me to call Wayinen? I
Speaker 1: shook my head. Don't please, I'll reach out, Diffen when
Speaker 1: I'm ready. He crossed the threshold, pausing with one hand
Speaker 1: on the door. I'm sorry, Jules, there willium, I nodded,
Speaker 1: unable to summon forgiveness or vengeance, just empty space were
Speaker 1: so much used to hum, the dog click, chat, the
Speaker 1: sound ricocheting down the hall. I stood there in the
Speaker 1: burn of the overhead light. Alone. At last, I tried
Speaker 1: to focus on practicalities. I messaged Naudia, I know everything
Speaker 1: now he's gone. Her replob was immediate, I'm so sorry.
Speaker 1: I should have told you I'm here any time. It
Speaker 1: was a comfort, but only a small one. I messaged
Speaker 1: my boss, thanks for understanding. I'll be offline for a
Speaker 1: few more days. There was no replay, probably asleep or
Speaker 1: busy bore. Truthfully, what could any one say to this
Speaker 1: sort of rupture? Only once did a hand hovering over
Speaker 1: my mother's contact, debating whether to let her in un
Speaker 1: the disaster, But I wrote instead, Heathan and I are
Speaker 1: taking some space. I'm fine. I'll call later. A safe
Speaker 1: neutral eye. I craved a cocoon of privacy, something to
Speaker 1: contain the aftershocks. I moved quietly through the apartment, closes
Speaker 1: and drawers, tucking away reminders. I boxed Ethan's charger and toothbrush,
Speaker 1: set it by the door, wipe clean the surfaces smudged
Speaker 1: by his hands. Each act a tiny recommation, drawing a
Speaker 1: border between what had been and what was left. I
Speaker 1: stared for a while at our wedding photo, tucked at
Speaker 1: the back of a bookshelf, my hand have her. Then
Speaker 1: I turned the frame face down, not out of anchor,
Speaker 1: but something more subtle. Wish to breathe in open air,
Speaker 1: to stop clinging to a story d at for now
Speaker 1: had run its course. It was as if the whole
Speaker 1: space was drawing its first cleave breath immons. I poured
Speaker 1: myself a glass of water, hands and steady, sitting on
Speaker 1: the edge of the couch, with the city lights blinking
Speaker 1: through the window. They urged to weep, rose and subsided,
Speaker 1: strained in its unpredictability, as if my body was learning
Speaker 1: this pain in new rhythms. My phone buzzed with the
Speaker 1: message from Ben ease here, take care at jewels. No advice,
Speaker 1: no excuses, just acknowledgment. It was enough. I spent a
Speaker 1: minute or two just breathing, hands curled around a glass,
Speaker 1: waiting for the next wave of anger or sorrow or
Speaker 1: some other an indomotion to come. When it did, I stood.
Speaker 1: I moved to the bedroom, gathering the rest of Ethan's
Speaker 1: things into a box. Chargers that ancient pair of sneakers,
Speaker 1: the set of keys to the building. It was practical, physical, ordinary.
Speaker 1: It felt like the farthest thing in the world from
Speaker 1: what my marriage had been, And yet this was all
Speaker 1: that was left of it. Objects to be moved, space
Speaker 1: to reclaim. At some point I realized the clock had
Speaker 1: slid past midnight. The city, as ever, pulsed on indifferent.
Speaker 1: I padded into the kitchen, flipped on the kettle for tea,
Speaker 1: and leaned my forehead against the cool pane of the window,
Speaker 1: watching Taxi's foot through the intersection, and thinking only dimly
Speaker 1: that every one of them was headed somewhere I did
Speaker 1: not need to be. I finished what I'd started, box,
Speaker 1: sealed and stirred by the door, in quiet, all the
Speaker 1: jagged diges inside me softened, if only by degree. I
Speaker 1: walked back into the living room, settled onto the broad
Speaker 1: window sill, pulled my knees up, and wrapped my arms
Speaker 1: round myself. I told myself once more, and for the
Speaker 1: last time that night, it's over. And it was. I
Speaker 1: let myself say on that window sill, knees pressed to
Speaker 1: my chest, the cold glass leaching heat from my skin.
Speaker 1: I watched the city in hal and exhale. Street lights
Speaker 1: pulling along the broken concrete, little shots of sound and
Speaker 1: color in every window across the avenue. For a few minutes,
Speaker 1: maybe longer, I did nothing but breathe, feeling the furnace
Speaker 1: cycle stutter on and off. High above the radiators and
Speaker 1: far below, A late commuter's laughter echoed up the block.
Speaker 1: I felt emptied out, like everything tender had been scraped
Speaker 1: out and stacked on some invisible shelf. Not numb, just
Speaker 1: vast quiet. A part of me wanted to curl up
Speaker 1: and be done, to sail straight into sleep, but another
Speaker 1: part kept me upright. I wasn't ready to release myself yet,
Speaker 1: not before I'd done what had to be done. I
Speaker 1: moved through the apartment, checking latches, flicking off all but
Speaker 1: the little lamp with the blue shade, and a living
Speaker 1: room apiece. Ethan had claimed a stoop sail, insisting it
Speaker 1: was tragic but dignified. Now it cast everything in watery turquoise,
Speaker 1: strange and theatrical. I took stock the boxes near the
Speaker 1: front door, his chargers, extra sketch pads, the battered book
Speaker 1: on its century opened design, his war By. I looked
Speaker 1: at our shoes, mine in a neat row, his sneakers tossed,
Speaker 1: all that energy and carelessness, suddenly displaced, like the person
Speaker 1: who'd warned them had been vacuumed out. Another surge hit me, then, anger,
Speaker 1: sharp and bright. All the wasted hours of self doubt,
Speaker 1: all the asking friends for crumbs of honesty, all the
Speaker 1: moments when I wished myself braver or suffer or some
Speaker 1: one else. Entirely, I found myself stalking from room to room,
Speaker 1: opening and closing drawers, pacing our narrow little hallway. I
Speaker 1: pulled his favorite mub from the dishwasher, holding it in
Speaker 1: both hands, and nearly held into the sink before stopping short.
Speaker 1: Breath caught in my chest. What did it matter? The
Speaker 1: mob was just a thing. The real cost was elsewhere,
Speaker 1: echoing somewhere I couldn't quite reach. I wiped his from
Speaker 1: my cheeks, surprised to find them there, and pressed my
Speaker 1: palm's flat to the freezer door until the cold nun
Speaker 1: my skin. Time moved strangely, ticking, shuddering. Everything felt slightly
Speaker 1: out of alignment, like the bones of our shared life
Speaker 1: had cracked just beneath the surface, and now nothing would
Speaker 1: fit together again. My phone buzz jarring me back nadya
Speaker 1: call anatim seriously, don't be alone if you don't want to.
Speaker 1: They offer a bandage, not a cure. I didn't answer.
Speaker 1: I couldn't, not yet. I made one brief call to work,
Speaker 1: voice shaky, telling my boss again that something personal was
Speaker 1: keeping me out of the office a little longer. The
Speaker 1: only reply, take what you need for a while. I
Speaker 1: tried sleep again. Crawling into the cold half of the bed,
Speaker 1: Ethan's pillow was still faintly warm. I felt like pressure
Speaker 1: on a bruise. I rolled away and closed my eyes,
Speaker 1: but rest wouldn't come. Breath after breath A cataloged the
Speaker 1: noises of the apartment that now belonged to me alone.
Speaker 1: By the time dawn started bleeding blue in the ease,
Speaker 1: my mind was clear, too clear. I sat up and
Speaker 1: padded to the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and
Speaker 1: studied this new solitary version of myself in the mirror.
Speaker 1: I looked tired, older, but not entirely defeated. There was
Speaker 1: something unyielding in my reflection. Not strength, not exactly, something
Speaker 1: more like a readiness to face the next thing, whatever
Speaker 1: jagged shape it might have. The apartment was impossibly still.
Speaker 1: I moved into the living room again and picked up
Speaker 1: the box. It was heavier than I expect, awkward, with
Speaker 1: the charge of cords and mugs in a single, half
Speaker 1: completed sketch balanced on top. My plan was simple. Now
Speaker 1: I draw Ethan's things up ben Stoop before real morning
Speaker 1: traffic started, a clean physical act, not a punishment, just
Speaker 1: an ending. It was simple, but my body moved with
Speaker 1: a strange hesitance. I stood by the door, heart thumping
Speaker 1: in my hand on the knob, listening for Sunds and hall.
Speaker 1: Nothing but the muted hum of city pithon far off,
Speaker 1: the sweep of a street cleaner. I almost expected Ethan's
Speaker 1: key in the lock, some frantic reprieve, but the whole
Speaker 1: was stayed empty. I opened the door, walking down three
Speaker 1: flights in the half light, the box cutting into my arms.
Speaker 1: I had a flash back to every move we'd made
Speaker 1: together that first apartment. The match was carried in at
Speaker 1: midnight because we were too cheap to pay for next
Speaker 1: day delivery. The arguments over which Moggs should go where
Speaker 1: the ridiculous skiddin us When we'd found our current place
Speaker 1: in fielded with houseplunts and books and mismatched plates, now
Speaker 1: the box felt like calling a spent battery, some fight
Speaker 1: or charge depleted. Outside the city was pale and barely stirring.
Speaker 1: I texted Ben as I loitered by the edge of
Speaker 1: his walkway, leaving his things by your door. Thanks. The
Speaker 1: response was quicker thumb up emoji, then another briefer, will figurita.
Speaker 1: I left the box, double checked that nothing had been
Speaker 1: left behind, then retreated with my hands bowled into my
Speaker 1: coat pockets. There was an impulse to call some one,
Speaker 1: my mother, my sister, even naughty again, But I didn't
Speaker 1: want the gentle, reasonable words every one would offer me.
Speaker 1: You're brave, you're better off, You'll heal, time will fix it.
Speaker 1: In this moment, I was tired of stories that offered
Speaker 1: a silver lining before the fracture had even set Back
Speaker 1: up stairs, I pushed into the apartment and shut the
Speaker 1: door behind me. The click equing oddly, I leaned against it.
Speaker 1: I've closed part of me almost laughed at the anticlimax.
Speaker 1: I'd been fearing this moment for weeks, waiting for some
Speaker 1: cataclysmic explosion, and it had ended with a cardboard box
Speaker 1: in the soft slop of slippers on hardwood. But then
Speaker 1: I noticed the space, the way the light came in unobstructed,
Speaker 1: the way the creases on the ketch saddled without anyone
Speaker 1: to disturb them, the silence that was not entirely despairing.
Speaker 1: I moved to the kitchen, started boiling water for coffee,
Speaker 1: out of habit, hands working steadily, routine It toned out
Speaker 1: could be a shield as much as a prison. There
Speaker 1: was something calming in this, each movement, deliberate, each small,
Speaker 1: ordinary act, my own, again untouched by any one else's secrets.
Speaker 1: At the sink, I caught a glimpse of the sky line.
Speaker 1: It fractured buildings against the soft, darn sky. I stood there,
Speaker 1: a mug in hand, watching the city wick slow, reluctant,
Speaker 1: but revocable. There was grief in that stillness, yes, But
Speaker 1: underneath it the tiniest note of possibility, the hum of pipes,
Speaker 1: the clatter of radiators, the muffled footsteps of neighbors overhead.
Speaker 1: Of all these things, I, once tuned out, now vibrated
Speaker 1: within me, marking the shift from we two eye with
Speaker 1: the certainty of a bell. No one would tell the
Speaker 1: story for me, no one else to blame or forgive
Speaker 1: or convince. I had only my own pulse and the
Speaker 1: slow widening of the light. I took my coffee to
Speaker 1: the table and sat the chair like while we under
Speaker 1: my weight. I let myself notice every detail, the room
Speaker 1: of shadow under the cabinet, the cracks in the paint,
Speaker 1: the sticky note still stuck to the fridge with Ethan's
Speaker 1: looping script by more oranges. I traced the edges with
Speaker 1: a thumb nel, then peeled it away, crumpling it in
Speaker 1: my fist. Fawn buzzed once to messages, blinked in naughgy again,
Speaker 1: Ben a single meal from hr auto generated, wishing me
Speaker 1: a speedy recovery, more routine, more reminders that life lumbers forward,
Speaker 1: even as the scaffolding shivers and breaks. I didn't respond
Speaker 1: to any of them. I just sipped my coffee, warm
Speaker 1: and dark, and washed daylight crawl its slow, steady line
Speaker 1: along the foreboards, not rushing it, not wishing for anything
Speaker 1: except the simple courage to stay exactly where I was.
Speaker 1: After a while, I breathed out and unclenched my fists,
Speaker 1: Feeling the stiffest in my shoulders eb a little. I
Speaker 1: set my mug back down. The sound of seracum more
Speaker 1: gentle and final, in a hush before the day began
Speaker 1: for real, I let myself feel at all the eg
Speaker 1: this slight hush of fear, the thread of hope that
Speaker 1: felt almost impossible. I could not see beyond this morning,
Speaker 1: and for the first time in a long stretch of months,
Speaker 1: that felt like permission. The city out my window had
Speaker 1: lost none of its ordinary strangeness, thus has grown to life.
Speaker 1: Pigeons looped over rooftop pipes. I watched for a while,
Speaker 1: letting the patterns saddle, an engine rivving, the knock of
Speaker 1: a neighbor's mop, a single red tail light drifting through
Speaker 1: the crosswalk. I was alone, but not abandoned. There would
Speaker 1: be sorrow later, a memory, a dozen tiny deaths still
Speaker 1: waiting to collect their toll. But in this hour, in
Speaker 1: this base, there was only me, in the small, ordinary
Speaker 1: miracle of beginning again. I sat at our kitchen table,
Speaker 1: a single morek cradled in my palms, watching dawn creep
Speaker 1: across the sky line. The city shifted and breed, peeling
Speaker 1: at shadows from the towers as morning gathered strength. I waited,
Speaker 1: brittle but unbroken, until the room filled with enough soft,
Speaker 1: unfamiliar light to see by. For the first time in months,
Speaker 1: I was alone with my own truth. Whatever came next,
Speaker 1: I would decide what to rebuild.