Megan burst out, offended. “We only just got here!”
“I said go HOME.” Jason rose from his chair, his face hard. “Get out of my apartment. Now.”
Emily stayed with her mother for three days. During that time, Jason called again and again, sent message after message, and even showed up at his mother-in-law’s door. But Carol refused to let him in.
“Emily doesn’t want to see you,” she told him through the closed door. “Go home, Jason.”
On the fourth day, Emily decided to return to the apartment to collect her things. She assumed Jason would be at work. Instead, she found him sitting in the kitchen.
“Emily!” He sprang up at once. “You came back!”
“For my belongings,” she answered coldly.
She went straight into the bedroom and began folding clothes into a bag. Jason stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching her with a strained expression.
“Emily, please. Let’s talk.”
“About what?” she asked without turning around. “About how you humiliated me in front of your family? Or about how you throw money away and then expect me to somehow put food on the table out of thin air?”
“I understand now. I really do. I was wrong.”
Emily stopped packing and looked at him.
“You were wrong?” she repeated quietly. “Jason, you are always wrong. This wasn’t one mistake. This is a pattern.”
“I’ll change.”
“No.” Emily shook her head. “You said that when you bought a television instead of a refrigerator. Then again when you drank away your bonus with your friends. And again when—”
“Enough!” Jason slammed his fist against the doorframe. “How long are you going to keep dragging up the past?”
“As long as the past keeps turning into the present, Jason. But it won’t anymore. That was our life. Or what was left of it.”
She zipped the bag shut and carried it into the hallway. At the threshold, she paused.
“By the way, your brother Brian called yesterday,” she said. “He apologized. He said I had been right. And he told me something interesting.”
Jason’s shoulders stiffened. “What?”
“That you borrowed about a hundred and ten dollars from him a month ago. You spent it on gaming junk. And you told me your paycheck was late.”
The color drained from Jason’s face.
“That… that’s not how it—”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Emily’s voice was calm now, almost tired. “Live however you want. Just do it without me.”
Then she stepped out and closed the door softly behind her.
Two months passed. Emily rented a tiny studio apartment near her job. The divorce was already underway, and Jason did not fight it. It was as if he had finally understood there was no road back.
Then, one evening, an unexpected visitor appeared at her door.
It was Megan.
“May I come in?” she asked from the hallway.
Emily stepped aside.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked politely.
“Yes, please.” Megan sat down at the kitchen table. “Emily, I came to apologize.”
Emily raised her eyebrows.
“For what?”
“For everything,” Megan said. “For sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. For turning Jason against you. For acting like a complete witch.”
Emily studied her for a moment. “What happened to you, Megan? Where is all this honesty coming from?”
Megan lowered her head.
“Daniel found out about Tyler. I don’t know how, but he did. He filed for divorce. And do you know what he said to me?”
“What?”
“He said I got exactly what I deserved. He said you can’t destroy someone else’s family and then expect to build your own happiness on the ruins.”
Emily quietly poured the tea.
“And there’s something else,” Megan continued. “Jason is living with some young girl now. She’s ten years younger than him. She’s draining him dry. He even sold his car to buy her a fur coat.”
“I don’t feel sorry for him,” Emily said simply.
“You shouldn’t. He chose that road himself. Just like I chose mine.”
For several minutes they sat in silence. Then Megan rose from her chair.
“Thank you for hearing me out,” she said. “And one more thing: I’m sorry.”