She had mistaken the attention for a promise. He didn't have to abandon a home, pay a mortgage, or face a spouse who knew his worst habits. He could compliment her at midnight and disappear before morning. She had treated that ease as proof of a life more exciting than ours, forgetting how little effort it takes to be delightful when nobody needs anything difficult from you.
I did not find the story satisfying in the way people imagine vindication should feel. Adrian hadn't vanished because he was ashamed; he'd simply moved on to another event and another crowd. The consequences stayed with Vanessa and me because we were the ones who had made the commitment he had been allowed to disregard. Learning that she had discovered his indifference did not return my trust, but it did help explain the illusion that had carried her through our last year.
Shortly after Thanksgiving, I moved out of Ethan's guest room. I rented a one-bedroom apartment in Montclair with tall windows, old radiators, and a view of an enormous maple tree. Ethan tried to apologize that his home had been crowded with Oliver's school projects, and I told him the crowded house had saved me from some very lonely nights. Mara packed a container of soup for my first evening, and Oliver helped carry books to my truck. He asked whether my new place had a yard, and I admitted it didn't.
"Then where will you build things?" he asked.
It was an unexpectedly good question. For years I'd told people I wanted to learn furniture making properly, and I'd bought tools I hardly used because there was always another event to attend or another argument to recover from. I told Oliver I'd figure it out. A week later I registered for a Saturday woodworking class at a small community workshop, partly because I wanted to make something that could not talk back and partly because I needed to be around people who didn't know what was happening in my marriage.
My first project was a plain ash-wood side table. I cut the legs unevenly, sanded one edge too much, and had to ask the instructor how to fix a joint I'd assembled backward. The work absorbed me more completely than anything had in months. When I carried the finished table into my apartment, it wobbled slightly until I adjusted one foot, but it was mine. I set it beside the sofa and spent an absurd amount of time admiring it.