Chapter 2 - The Month He Thought She Would Wait
By the next morning, Ethan had moved into Sophie’s apartment.
Clare knew because he sent a message at 7:12 a.m.
I hope you got home safely. Please don’t make this public. We need space to figure things out respectfully.
Clare stared at the message while sitting at the kitchen counter in the apartment she and Ethan had shared for two years.
His coffee mug was still beside the sink.
His running shoes were still by the front door.
A framed photograph from their trip to Maine sat on the bookshelf. In it, Ethan had his arm around her, smiling into the wind, his face pressed against her hair.
Clare had once believed that picture showed love.
Now she wondered whether it only showed a man who knew how to look devoted when someone was taking a photograph.
She replied with one sentence.
I won’t lie for you.
Then she blocked his number.
At nine, she called Ava Morgan.
Ava arrived twenty minutes later carrying coffee, bagels, and the expression of a woman ready to destroy someone’s life with a spreadsheet.
“What exactly did he say?” Ava asked.
Clare told her.
Ava listened without interrupting. By the end, she had gone very still.
“He wants a trial relationship with his ex while keeping you reserved as his backup plan.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds terrible.”
“It is terrible.”
Clare looked down at the engagement ring on her finger.
She had loved it when Ethan proposed. A simple diamond, vintage-inspired, chosen after he spent months pretending he did not know her ring size.
Now it felt heavy.
“He thinks I’ll wait,” Clare said.
“Will you?”
Clare removed the ring and placed it on the table.
“No.”
Ava’s eyes widened.
“What are you going to do?”
Clare looked toward the wedding planner folder resting on the counter.
The wedding was scheduled for thirty-one days away.
Nearly everything had been paid for: the venue, flowers, catering, music, photographer, hotel rooms for relatives, and a honeymoon suite in Italy.
Canceling would cost a fortune.
But more than money, Clare hated the idea of hiding.
She hated the thought of calling people with a trembling voice and saying that Ethan had “changed his mind.” She hated the thought of becoming a sad story whispered over brunch tables.
No.
If Ethan wanted to leave, he could leave.
But he would not get to take her joy, her wedding date, or her future with him.
“The wedding is still happening,” Clare said.
Ava blinked. “With Ethan?”
“No.”
“With who?”
Clare looked at her friend.
“I don’t know yet.”
For the first week, Clare focused on practical things.
She changed the locks.
She moved Ethan’s remaining belongings into storage.
She met with the venue coordinator, who nearly cried when Clare explained that the event would continue but the groom would not.
“You are incredibly brave,” the coordinator said.
“I don’t feel brave,” Clare replied.
“You came here instead of canceling. That counts.”
The hardest call was to Ethan’s mother.
Diane Carter answered after two rings.
“Clare, sweetheart, Ethan told me you two are taking some time.”
“We are.”
“I’m sure he’ll come to his senses.”
Clare stood by the apartment window, watching people hurry through the Boston rain below.
“He already made his choice.”
“He is confused.”
“No,” Clare said. “He is selfish.”
Diane sighed deeply. “Sophie has always had a hold on him.”
The sentence hurt.
Not because it was surprising.
But because it meant everyone had known Sophie mattered more than they admitted.
Everyone except Clare.
“I hope he finds what he is looking for,” Clare said.
Then she ended the call.
That afternoon, Clare met with her father at his small accounting office in Cambridge.
Her father, Robert Bennett, had never liked Ethan.
He had never said so directly, but Clare remembered every careful pause and every question Ethan avoided answering.
When she told him the truth, Robert leaned back in his chair.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“No.” He opened his desk drawer, pulled out a bottle of water, and placed it in front of her. “After you drink this, I’m going to say that no man who asks a woman to wait while he tests another life deserves her.”
Clare began to cry then.
Not because she wanted Ethan back.
But because she had spent too long trying to make his cruelty sound reasonable.
At the end of the second week, a message appeared from an unknown number.
It was Sophie.
I know you hate me. But Ethan is struggling. He misses you.
Clare read it once.
Then she replied.
He does not miss me. He misses having two women available to him.
May you like
She blocked that number too.
And for the first time in years, Clare slept through the night.
