Chapter 1: The Suitcase
“If it bothers you that much, talk to your attorney about a divorce, because I am not staying home this weekend.”
Bennett said it while folding a crisp navy shirt in front of the bed, moving with the efficiency of a man preparing for a high stakes merger instead of a weekend getaway with another woman.
Elise stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, watching her husband pack expensive cologne, brand new underwear, and the very perfume set she had gifted him for his birthday.
“So, does this spiritual wellness retreat in Lake Tahoe also require a club shirt?” she asked, her voice maintaining an eerie, fragile calm.
Bennett did not even have the decency to look nervous or caught off guard.
“I am going with Heather, as I already told you, because it is strictly office related and requires my presence,” he replied dismissively.
Heather Jenkins. The fun coworker, the one who always claimed to understand his chaotic schedule, the one who sent him text messages at midnight about pending assignments, the one who had appeared in every single social media story of his for the last six months.
His smartphone vibrated aggressively on the nightstand, the screen illuminating the room just as Elise turned her head to look away.
“I cannot wait to be with you, love,” the notification read in bold letters.
Bennett snatched the phone so quickly that he nearly knocked over the glass lamp beside the bed.
“That was just spam, do not worry about it,” he muttered, shoving the device into his leather bag.
Elise let out a dry, hollow laugh that echoed in the spacious room.
“Spam has become incredibly affectionate these days, calling you love and all,” she remarked with a sharp edge to her tone.
Bennett looked at her then with a chilling coldness that seemed to shatter something vital inside her chest.
“I am completely exhausted by your constant dramatic scenes, so if you want to be a victim, go find a lawyer and file for a divorce, maybe then you will finally stop bothering me,” he snapped.
Elise did not scream, she did not cry, and she did not throw anything at his head; she simply stepped aside and let him walk out with his heavy suitcase, the very same one they had purchased for their honeymoon in Key West.
When the car finally disappeared down the quiet street, the house fell into a heavy silence, but it was not a sad, lonely silence.
It felt as though, for the very first time in many years, the house itself was finally able to breathe again.
Elise sat down at the kitchen island with Bennett’s old laptop, which he always assumed she was far too trusting to ever check.
