I didn't touch anything that belonged to her. Then I took my keys. Marilyn stood beside the front door. Where are you going? To Grant's tonight.
I'll figure out the rest tomorrow. She looked at me like she expected me to change my mind. I didn't. As I opened the door, she said, "Harry. " I turned.
I do still love you. I held her gaze. Then you should have thought about that before you said yes to John. I walked out. I didn't slam the door.
I didn't need to. The decision had already been made by both of us. I stayed at my friend Grant's place for four nights. He didn't ask me to explain everything the first night. He just gave me the spare room, handed me a towel, and told me I could stay as long as I needed.
On the second morning, he finally asked, "Are you going back? " "No, " he nodded. "Good. " I looked at him. "That's all you have to say?
You already made the decision? " He wasn't wrong. I spent the next week separating my life from Marilyn's. The townhouse lease was in both our names, but I had paid most of the deposit. I contacted the property manager and arranged to remove myself when the lease allowed it.
I moved my furniture, tools, clothes, and personal things into a small apartment closer to work. I didn't take anything Marilyn had bought. I didn't ask for anything back. I wanted a clean separation. 3 weeks after Marilyn's confession, I heard from a mutual friend that she was officially engaged to John.
I wasn't surprised. Apparently, John had given her a ring during a dinner with some of their old friends. She accepted it again. This time, I wasn't part of the equation. That mattered.
I didn't contact her. She contacted me. It happened on a Tuesday afternoon while I was leaving a job site. My phone rang. Marilyn.
I let it ring once, then I answered. What do you need? There was a pause. How are you? Fine.
That's it. Yes. She sighed. I heard you move to a new place. I did.
Where? That's not important. I just wanted to know if you're okay. I'm okay. Another silence.
Then she said, "John and I are figuring things out. " I stopped walking. You don't need to tell me that. I know. Then why are you?
I don't know. I understood exactly why. She wanted to know if I was still waiting. I wasn't. She said, "Do you hate me?
" "No. " Are you angry? Yes. At me? Yes.
Her voice became quieter. I thought you would fight for me. I leaned against my truck. You accepted another man's proposal. I thought you would ask me to reconsider.
Why? Because we were supposed to get married. We were. The distinction bothered her. We still could.
I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, "No. " She didn't answer. Harry, you can't just erase four years. I'm not erasing anything.