I called my husband thirty-one times while his mother was dying. On the thirty-first call, his mistress answered from Maui—and laughed. / Chapter 7 / 20

Chapter 7 - The Morning AfterAt 8:30 the following morning, Mark’s flight from Maui via Los Angeles finally touched down at Baltimore-Washington International Airport.

I knew this because I was tracking his flight on my laptop from the dining table of our Oak Ridge home.

I had returned to the house at sunrise, not to clean or prepare a meal, but to clear out every trace of my existence. A moving van was already parked in the driveway. Two professional movers were quietly packing my books, my clothes, my family heirlooms, and the antique restoration tools I hadn't touched in fifteen years.

My phone rang. Mark.

I swiped the screen. "Yes, Mark?"

"Ellie! I just landed!" His voice was frantic, ragged with exhaustion and heavy background noise from the terminal. "I'm heading straight to the hospital! Which floor is Mom on? Where are you?!"

"I am at the house," I said smoothly. "And you don't need to go to the hospital. Margaret's body was transferred to Mitchell & Sons Funeral Home at three o'clock this morning."

A choked sob came through the speaker. "Ellie, please... stay at the house. Don't go anywhere. I'm taking an Uber right now. I'll be home in forty minutes. We need to talk about this. I can explain everything about Chloe, I swear to God—"

"Take your time," I said, and hung up.

Thirty-five minutes later, a sleek black rideshare vehicle pulled into our circular driveway.

Mark practically threw himself out of the backseat. His hair was disheveled, his designer linen shirt was crumpled, and his face was pale and blotchy from crying and lack of sleep.

He burst through the front door, shouting my name. "Ellie! Ellie, where are you?!"

He stopped dead in the foyer.

The living room was completely bare. The rug, the oil paintings I had brought into the marriage, the side tables, and my grand piano were gone. All that remained were the heavy leather sofas Mark had picked out himself.

I was standing near the front window, wearing a tailored navy trench coat, holding my handbag and a sleek manila folder.

"What... what is this?" Mark stammered, looking around the empty room in horror. "Ellie, what did you do?"

"I packed my things," I said simply.

He took three fast steps toward me, his arms reaching out. "Ellie, baby, please! Look at me! Maui was a mistake! Chloe is nothing to me—she’s just an associate from the West Coast office who took advantage of my stress! I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight—"

"Mark," I interrupted, my voice as flat as glass. "Your mother died while you were in bed with another woman. You missed her last words. You missed her last breath."

Mark dropped to his knees right there on the hardwood floor, burying his face in his hands, weeping uncontrollably. "I know! I know I'm a monster! I'll never forgive myself! But please, don't leave me! I love you, Ellie. I can't live without you!"

I looked down at him without a single flicker of pity.

"You don't love me, Mark. You love the life I organized for you. You love having a wife who cleans up your messes and takes care of your dying mother so you can pretend to be a mogul."

I opened the manila folder and dropped a single sheet of paper onto the floor in front of him.

He looked up through his tears, blinking. "What's this?"

"That is a formal notice of lease default for Bennett & Vance’s Atlanta headquarters," I said. "AV Real Estate Holdings has terminated your commercial lease due to systemic non-compliance and ethical violations outlined in Section 14 of your contract."