“Then how can you leave?”
His eyes filled.
Not enough for tears to fall.
Enough that I saw them.
“Because cheating isn’t the only way to make someone feel alone in a relationship.”
Then he walked to his car.
Loaded the suitcases.
Got in.
Drove away.
I stood in the doorway until his taillights disappeared around the corner.
When I turned around, twenty people were pretending not to stare.
Julian stood beside the gray sectional with his hands in his pockets.
I wanted him to come toward me.
To say Liam was crazy.
To say I had done nothing wrong.
To validate every argument I had made.
Instead, Julian said:
“Jess…”
“What?”
His expression was uncomfortable.
“You shouldn’t have used me like that.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“The hug.”
My face burned.
“What about it?”
“You were looking at Liam.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No.”
“You knew?”
“I figured it out.”
“Then why did you hug me back?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because I liked it.”
That answer shocked me.
At least it was honest.
Julian continued.
“And because part of me likes that you still care what I think.”
I crossed my arms.
“Liam just walked out and you’re making this about yourself?”
“No.”
“I’m saying this thing between us isn’t as innocent as we keep telling people.”
I wanted to slap him.
Instead, I laughed bitterly.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Maybe.”
“Get out.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“Now.”
He picked up his jacket.
Before leaving, he stopped beside me.
“For what it’s worth, I never wanted you two to break up.”
“Then congratulations.”
“Jessica.”
“What?”
“You didn’t lose him because I came to the party.”
I glared at him.
He looked toward the envelope on the island.
“You lost him because you invited me to prove you could.”
Then he left too.
The party ended within fifteen minutes.
Hannah stayed long enough to help me put food in the refrigerator.
Mateo carried trash bags outside.
Nobody offered opinions.
I resented them for that too.
At midnight, I was alone in a house that had been full of people three hours earlier.
The silence was enormous.
The place still smelled new.
Fresh paint.
New wood cabinets.
Cedar from the fence.
We had moved in eighteen days earlier.
There were boxes upstairs we had not unpacked.
A ladder remained in the guest room because Liam still planned to hang shelves.
Blue painter’s tape marked two spots where he wanted to touch up the trim.
His coffee mug sat in the dishwasher.
His running shoes were beside the garage door.
He had left most of his life behind because two suitcases were all he could carry without turning the breakup into a moving project.
I sat on the floor beside the island and opened the envelope.
The document was four pages.
I read every line.
Liam had checked the box marked ELECT TO INITIATE BUYOUT OR SALE PROCEDURE.
The timestamp was 5:11 p.m.
Attached was an email from our attorney confirming receipt.
Below it, another page showed his transfer of $3,140 into our housing account.
His half of the next mortgage payment.
He had even paid his share before leaving.
That made me angrier than if he had walked out owing money.
There was nothing to fight.
No unpaid bill.
No smashed photograph.
No cruel message.