The director's voice was warm on the other end of the line. "But you unde

t was exactly what I need

d for you," he promised. "Just

mething like hope cutting through th

drove straight

gs on the counter. A framed photo of us on our wedding day on the mantelpiece, his arm wrapped tightly around m

evulsion wa

bottom of the bag. The photo frame followed, the glass cracking. I tore every picture of us from its frame, ripped them into tiny piec

ragged them to the curb, a cleansi

rything that was mine. I arranged for a shipping company to pick them up a

't come hom

g. He dropped his briefcase and pulled me into an embra

urmured into my hair, his

erent woman's perfume on his shirt. All I could picture was him ho

yself out

a look of concern. "What's

I said, my

, his brow furrowed. "Are you

part of the concerned husband so perfectly, eve

" I said. "I'

ries of gift-wrapped boxes from his briefc

me I would never wear. Each gift was a carefully constructed lie, a testament to the depth of his deceptio

But the words wouldn't come. I was trapped between the woman who still, somewhere deep down,

ilence, the red

t, Elana?

eye, my voice hard. "I want a

a mask of weary patience. "We' ve talked

right time for y

tiative. I'm under a lot of pressure

e?" I insisted, my voice rising. "

ller ID was blank. He glanced at i

turning away. "I have to go.

now felt like a brand of his betraya

e got into his car and sped aw

leaving only a bone-deep ache. He could have a child wi

r international business," lying on the coffee table. He' d

ver is back. He keeps

ent. That the house was half-empty.

n my heart was so intense it was a physical sensation, but i

g to my mouth as I ran for the b

A cold, terrifying thought began to form in my mind

come home

g, I went to th

inkling at the corners as she

id, her voice bright with a joy I coul