Chương 8
“Nothing.”
“Your eyeliner is different.”
“That’s your evidence?”
“You’ve worn the same eyeliner since Obama was president.”
Rachel looked at her.
Maya closed the door.
“Do I need to hurt somebody?”
“Probably not.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Rachel took one bite of yogurt.
Then she said, “Ethan’s been having an affair.”
Maya sat down.
Unlike Leah, she did not ask questions immediately.
She stared at Rachel for several seconds.
Then: “Do you want me to know details or just know?”
Rachel’s throat tightened.
“Just know.”
“Okay.”
“I might leave early.”
“Leave now.”
“I have the research review.”
“I’m running it.”
“You don’t know the prototype.”
“I know enough to say we need another week.”
“We don’t need another week.”
“Everyone needs another week.”
Rachel smiled despite herself.
Maya reached for the door.
“Go home.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Then go somewhere else.”
That afternoon Rachel sat in a movie theater at two thirty and watched forty-five minutes of a superhero film she had not chosen carefully enough.
She left when a character shouted, “You lied to me.”
Outside, she bought an iced coffee and sat on a bench.
Her phone showed a message from Mark Ellis, Ethan’s closest friend.
Hey. I heard things blew up. I’m sorry.
Rachel read it twice.
She typed:
What exactly did Ethan tell you before yesterday?
Mark did not answer for eleven minutes.
Then:
Probably better if you talk to him.
Rachel:
I am talking to you.
Another pause.
Mark:
He said you guys had been having a rough year.
Rachel:
Did he say we were separated?
Five minutes.
Then:
Yes.
Rachel stared at the word.
She called him.
Mark answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey.”
“When?”
“Rachel—”
“When did he tell you?”
“March, maybe.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Try.”
Mark sighed.
“He said you were basically done. That you were still figuring out logistics.”
“Did he say I ended it?”
Silence.
Rachel felt the answer before he gave it.
“He said it was mutual.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Another pause.
“He said you’d checked out.”
The noise of traffic moved past Rachel.
A bus stopped, hissed, then pulled away.
“What does that mean?”
“He said you were never home. That you didn’t want kids anymore. That you’d told him you weren’t sure you loved him.”
Rachel stood.
“I never said that.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Did you believe him?”
“He’s my friend.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“What did you tell him?”
“What?”
“When he said his marriage was ending.”
“I told him I was sorry.”
“Did you tell him to talk to me?”
“I assumed he had.”
“Did he tell you about Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Did you know there was someone else?”
“No.”
Rachel believed him.
That almost made it worse.
Ethan had not merely lied to Vanessa.
He had been writing a public version of the marriage before Rachel knew there was a story.
“Mark.”
“Yeah?”
“If Ethan is staying with you, don’t give him advice about me.”
“What?”
“Don’t explain me to him. Don’t tell him what I’ll forgive. Don’t tell him what I’m probably thinking. You don’t know.”
“Okay.”
“And if he tells you something about me, maybe ask yourself whether I was in the room when it happened.”
Mark was quiet.
Then he said, “That’s fair.”
Rachel hated that phrase too.
On Wednesday evening, Ethan came home at her invitation.
Rachel had moved two chairs into the living room so they faced each other without the coffee table between them.
When he entered, he noticed.
“Feels official.”
“It is.”
He sat.
Rachel remained standing for another moment, then took the other chair.
“Mark told me what you said.”
Ethan’s eyes closed briefly.
“Okay.”
“You told him I didn’t want children.”
“You said you weren’t sure.”
“Four years ago.”
“You’ve never brought it up again.”
“Neither have you.”
“I thought we agreed to wait.”
“We did.”
“So why did you tell Mark I’d changed my mind?”
“I was trying to explain why things felt wrong.”
“You were building a case.”
“That’s not what it felt like.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
Rachel looked at him.
He appeared thinner after three days away.
She resented noticing.
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“My brother.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Same basic thing.”
“Your parents?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“You know what I told Vanessa.”
“No, Ethan. I know what she chose to show me.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Ask.”
“Did you tell her I cheated on you?”
His eyes shifted.
Rachel sat back.
“You did.”
“I didn’t say you cheated.”
“What did you say?”
“That there was someone at work you were close to.”
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
Rachel laughed in disbelief.
“Daniel is gay.”
“I know.”
“He got married last year.”
“I know.”
“We went to his wedding.”
“I know.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I thought you had feelings for him.”
Rachel stared.
“Why?”
“Because she asked if there was someone else.”
“And you needed a reason the marriage was ending that wasn’t you.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
The admission was almost unbearable because it came so easily now.
Rachel felt her anger flatten into something colder.
“You made me the villain in a divorce I didn’t know I was having.”
Ethan rubbed his hands together.
“I was ashamed.”
“So you gave the shame to me.”
He looked at her.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Finally Ethan said, “Yes.”
Rachel expected satisfaction.
There was none.
She looked toward the window.
A delivery truck stopped across the street.
Someone carried a stack of cardboard boxes toward the neighbor’s porch.
Ordinary people kept receiving ordinary things.
“I made an appointment with a therapist,” Ethan said.
Rachel turned back.
“For yourself?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“I also talked to my boss.”
“Why?”
“Vanessa works in my division.”
Rachel had not thought about that yet.
“Do you manage her?”
“Not directly.”
“Does she report into you?”
“Two levels down.”
Rachel leaned back.
“That seems relevant.”
May you like
“It is.”
“What did you tell your boss?”
