She handed the paper back.
“You need to believe me.”
“I believe you didn’t forge my signature.”
Relief crossed her face.
Then:
“I also believe you intended to let my property be used in a deal you had never discussed with me.”
Relief disappeared.
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
I pointed toward the suitcases.
“You need to leave.”
Her eyes widened.
“Michael.”
“You already packed.”
“After what you just found out about Grant?”
I stared.
That question told me she still did not understand.
Discovering that her affair partner had lied to her did not erase what she had done to me.
“You kissed him in front of me five minutes ago.”
“I was angry.”
“At what?”
She looked toward the street.
“At everything.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“No, it isn't.”
Grant reached toward one suitcase.
“Come on.”
Lauren pulled it away.
“I'll call you.”
He stared.
“Lauren.”
“I said I'll call you.”
Grant looked at me.
“This can still be handled.”
“My marriage?”
I asked.
“Or your loan?”
He had nothing.
He walked to the Mercedes.
The car disappeared at the end of the street.
Lauren remained on the driveway.
Then she sat on one of her suitcases.
For almost ten years, I had known every version of her silence.
Angry silence felt sharp.
Sad silence made her look smaller.
Fear made her very still.
She was completely still now.
“I really didn't know he was doing that.”
“I believe you.”
She looked up.
“Then why are you still acting like this?”
“Because Grant lying to you does not make you honest with me.”
That hit.
Lauren stared at the house.
“I wanted another life.”
I waited.
She laughed quietly.
“That's the truth you want, right?”
“Yes.”
“You were always careful.”
I said nothing.
“Mortgage.”
“Retirement.”
“Emergency fund.”
“Insurance.”
“Every vacation scheduled six months ahead.”
She shook her head.
“You planned everything.”
“And that was bad?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“That’s what makes it worse.”
“What?”
“You were good.”
The sentence hurt.
“I had nothing dramatic to complain about.”
Lauren continued.
“You didn't cheat.”
“You didn't drink.”
“You weren't cruel.”
“You worked.”
“You saved.”
“You showed up.”
I almost smiled.
“Terrible.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“How did you want it to sound?”
“Like I wasn't ungrateful.”
“You were sleeping with somebody else.”
She closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“Ungrateful isn't exactly the biggest word in the room.”
She looked at the lawn.
“With Grant, everything felt unfinished.”
“What does that mean?”
“He talked about projects.”
“Travel.”
“Starting companies.”
“Moving.”
“Taking risks.”
I nodded.
“And I represent what?”
“The finished version.”
That stayed with me.
Lauren looked at the house.
“This place.”
“Same neighborhood.”
“Same routines.”
“I could see the next thirty years.”
“And that frightened you?”
“Yes.”