Part 3Severed Ties: No Looking Back

Ethan got home late that night. When he flipped on the light, he jumped, startled to see me sitting on the couch in the dark.

Then his expression hardened slightly. "What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night? Why aren't you asleep?"

I looked at him quietly. "I saw the interview today."

Ethan froze mid-motion, taking off his jacket. He clearly hadn't expected me to see it.

And why would he? I was usually swamped with the baby, barely had time to glance at my phone, let alone watch some obscure financial talk show.

Who knew fate would be so ironic?

He paused only for that second, then tossed his jacket onto the sofa and looked at me, acting completely unfazed.

"So?"

So?

I wanted to laugh, and I actually did. A hollow sound.

"Is that really how you see our marriage?" My laugh was shaky, tears welling up. "Couldn't marry the one you loved?"

"Then what about me? What am I?"

Ethan sighed, annoyed. "It was just something I said off the cuff. Don't make a federal case out of it."

I stopped laughing, wiping my eyes.

My emotions were too raw. This wasn’t the time to talk.

Seeing me quiet down, Ethan seemed to think he'd won. "You shouldn't sit around overthinking things all day. Go out, take a walk or something."

"I bust my ass out there earning money, not so you can sit at home getting paranoid and..."

His words were cut off by the sound of the bedroom door closing as I walked away.

I thought about so much that night. Flashes of the startup days, drinking until my stomach burned at client dinners, sometimes throwing up three or four times in an evening.

Then flashes of early pregnancy, Ethan always claiming he was too busy with work, never once coming with me to a prenatal checkup.

Then back further, before we were officially together, how he’d sometimes take me out just to clear my head, magically producing a single rose on a walk.

Years of moments, flickering before my eyes. Sleep was hazy, restless.

We’ll talk properly tomorrow, I thought.

When problems arise between a couple, you can't avoid them. You just have to solve them.

Unfortunately, that was just my perspective.

The next morning, Ethan left early and didn't come back that night.

I called to ask where he was.

The background was loud when someone picked up. It was a woman's voice.

"Ethan? Ethan, phone for you." She sounded like she was shaking him awake. "Answer your phone."

Ethan mumbled something incoherent. Then I heard a distinct smack sound, like a kiss, followed by the woman's playfully annoyed protests and laughter from others around them.

No one paid any attention to the still-open phone line.

Ethan didn't come home all night. I sat on the couch, wide awake until morning.

Around 8 or 9 AM, my phone rang with his number calling back.

But it wasn't Ethan. It was the same woman from last night.

"Oh, sorry about that," she said, her apology laced with provocation. "Ethan drank a little too much last night. He crashed at my place."

I just said, "Okay," showing I understood, and hung up without another word.

That evening, Ethan came home acting like nothing happened.

He didn't smell like alcohol, didn't look hungover. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful.

When I asked him where he was last night, he casually replied, "Out for drinks with an old friend."

Then, as if just remembering, he added, "It was Amanda, the one who answered your call. She just got divorced, her ex was really awful to her."

"Don't get the wrong idea," he tacked on. "There's nothing going on between us."

I saw the faint red mark on the back of his neck. "Oh," I said.

Logically, I knew I should press for details. But emotionally, a part of me just wanted to let it go. He said it himself, maybe it really was nothing.

But then it was one day, two days, a whole week – he didn't come home.

The first few times, his excuse was, "Something came up at work, I have to stay late."

When I questioned why no one else seemed to be working overtime, he dropped the pretense.

"Amanda's ex found out where she's living now and he keeps showing up, harassing her," he told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "She's terrified to even leave the apartment. I have to stay with her."

I was about to argue when the baby in my arms started crying. Ethan, seemingly unable to stand the noise, quickly hung up.

I focused on comforting the baby. Strangely, my usually calm child just wouldn't stop crying.

I frantically grabbed the thermometer. 102 degrees!

I immediately tried to call a car service on my phone. A fever in a young child is serious. We needed to get to the hospital right away!

Wouldn't you know it, there was a big concert at the stadium tonight, just letting out. All the Ubers and taxis were on the other side of town. No cars available.

No choice. I had to call Ethan again.

He had taken our only car. I needed him back here, now, to take our son to the ER.

The baby was still crying weakly, his distress tearing me apart. I kept praying Ethan would pick up.

After three or four missed calls, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. "What is it now?"

I could hear a woman's laughter in the background, but I didn't have time to care. "Ethan, the baby's sick, he has a high fever! You need to come back right now and take us to the hospital!"

Ethan was silent for a moment, then scoffed. "Lauren, you're really something else now. You'd even use our kid like this?"

"Don't waste your breath. I told you, there's nothing going on with Amanda. She needs help with something here. I'll be back in a few days."

"I'm not lying! He's really..."

"Look, I gotta go." He hung up abruptly.