Chapter 6: The Lie I Saw for Myself

"Be good and don't wait up for me. Get some sleep."

I didn't snap out of it until the cab driver repeated himself, clearly losing patience.

"Sir, where are you going? Have you decided yet or not?"

I apologized and made up my mind. "Take me to Farrow Group."

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, confused, and muttered under his breath. "It's the middle of the night and you're heading to the office? Everyone's gone home by now."

He said it, but he stepped on the gas anyway.

The city lights streaked across the window as we drove. I stared at Isla's message until the words blurred together.

Everything went smoothly.

That was what she had written.

If I hadn't gone to the courthouse myself, I might have believed her. I might have stayed home like an obedient fool, waiting for her to return and tell me that Damien was finally out of our lives.

Maybe she would have shown me some document I didn't understand. Maybe she would have kissed me and promised that everything was over. And because I had loved her for seven years, maybe I would have chosen to believe her again.

The thought made my stomach twist.

When the cab stopped outside Farrow Group, almost every floor of the building was dark.

I paid the driver and stepped out.

The security guard at the entrance recognized me immediately. Isla had brought me here often enough in the early years of our relationship that most of the older employees knew who I was.

"Mr. Ellison?" He looked surprised. "What brings you here this late?"

"Is Isla upstairs?"

The guard blinked.

"Ms. Farrow? No, sir. She left this afternoon."

For a moment, I thought I had misheard him.

"This afternoon?"

"Yes. Around three, I think."

My fingers slowly curled around my phone.

The message on the screen suddenly felt almost insulting.

Something came up at the office.

Working late.

Every word was a lie.

I thanked the guard and walked back outside.

For several minutes, I simply stood on the sidewalk beneath the building's enormous illuminated sign. The night air was cold, but I barely felt it.

I should have been devastated.

Instead, an eerie calm settled over me.

Maybe there was a limit to how many times a person's heart could break over the same betrayal. After that, there was nothing left to shatter.

I opened the rideshare app and entered Damien's apartment address.

I knew where he lived because Isla had once asked me to help choose the place.

At the time, she'd said Damien needed somewhere safe near campus. I had spent an entire weekend comparing apartments, checking commute times, and reading reviews.

I had even been the one to tell Isla that his current building was the best choice.

Thinking about it now almost made me laugh.

I had helped my girlfriend find an apartment for her husband.

The ride took less than twenty minutes.

Damien lived in a luxury complex that most students his age could never afford. Isla had insisted it was necessary because the cheaper neighborhoods weren't safe enough.

I used to think her concern was generous.

Now I wondered how many things I had deliberately misunderstood simply because the truth would have hurt too much.

The lobby was quiet when I entered.

The concierge recognized me too. I'd delivered documents for Isla once when Damien was sick.

"Mr. Ellison." He smiled politely. "Visiting Mr. Calder?"

I nodded.

"Is he home?"

The concierge hesitated for just a fraction of a second.

That hesitation told me everything.

"Yes, sir."

I stepped into the elevator.

My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored wall. I looked exhausted. My eyes were bloodshot from not sleeping, and there was a hollowness in my face I hadn't noticed before.

Seven years.

How much of myself had I spent protecting this relationship?

How many times had I swallowed my pride because Isla had a difficult childhood?

How many times had I convinced myself that her attachment to Damien was merely responsibility?

The elevator doors opened.

I walked down the hallway and stopped outside Damien's apartment.

Before I could knock, laughter came from inside.

Isla's laughter.

I knew that sound better than my own.

My hand froze inches from the door.

Then Damien spoke.

"You're lying. Nate definitely suspected something."

Isla sighed.

"He suspects everything lately. Don't worry about him."

My chest tightened.

Damien laughed softly. "You said you were going to divorce me today."

There was a pause.

Then Isla answered, "I couldn't do it while you were crying like that."

"So you still care about me?"

"Damien."

"Just answer me."

Another silence followed.

I stood outside their door and waited for the woman who had spent the previous night telling me I was the only person she loved to answer her husband.

Finally, Isla spoke.

"Of course I care about you."

My eyes closed.

Damien's voice softened. "More than Nate?"

"Don't compare yourself to him."

"Why not?"

"Because it's different."

I almost laughed.

Different.

That word had excused everything for years.

Damien was different because he was younger.

Their relationship was different because she sponsored him.

The marriage was different because it supposedly wasn't real.

The hickey probably had a different explanation too.

Every betrayal became harmless as long as Isla gave it another name.

Damien spoke again. "If you love him so much, why are you here with me instead of at home with him?"

This time, Isla didn't answer.

I didn't wait for one.

I knocked.

The voices inside stopped instantly.

Several seconds passed before footsteps approached.

The door opened.

Damien stood there wearing a loose shirt and pajama pants. His eyes widened when he saw me.

"Nate?"

Behind him, Isla was sitting on the couch.

She was still wearing the formal dress she'd put on that morning to supposedly divorce him.

Her shoes were beside the couch. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and a half-finished bottle of wine sat on the table.

There were two glasses.

For once, neither of them had an explanation ready.

Isla stood abruptly.

"Nate."

I looked at her.

"Busy night at the office?"

Her face drained of color.

"Listen to me—"

"Did you divorce him?"

She stopped.

I repeated the question.

"Did you divorce Damien today?"

Isla's lips parted, but no answer came.

Damien stepped forward nervously.

"Nate, don't blame Isla. It's my fault. I couldn't control myself at the courthouse. I begged her not to leave me. She only came here because I wasn't doing well emotionally."

I looked at him.

"I didn't ask you."

He flinched.

Isla immediately moved between us.

That tiny instinctive movement hurt more than I expected.

She was protecting him again.

Even now.

"Don't talk to Damien like that," she said.

I stared at her until she seemed to realize what she'd done.

Her expression changed immediately.

"Nate, that's not what I meant."

"It doesn't matter."

My voice was surprisingly steady.

"I went to the courthouse."

Isla went completely still.

"I heard what happened this morning. Then you told me everything went smoothly."

I held up my phone, showing her the message.

"After that, I went to your office. Security told me you left this afternoon."

Her face grew paler with every sentence.

"So I came here."

I glanced at the wine glasses before looking back at her.

"Turns out I finally found the office where you've been working so hard."

"Nate, please."

She rushed toward me.

I stepped back.

The panic in her eyes sharpened.

"Don't touch me."

Her hand stopped in midair.

"I was going to tell you," she whispered.

"When?"

She said nothing.

"Tomorrow? Next week? After you and Damien celebrated another anniversary?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

For the first time, my voice rose.

"You married him behind my back. You lied about why. You lied about divorcing him. You lied about going to work. And every single time I find out the truth, you tell me I'm emotional or jealous or overthinking things."

I pointed toward Damien.

"But somehow he's never the problem. He cries, and you stay married. He calls, and you run to him. Someone touches him, and you're willing to destroy them. He needs money, and you pay. He needs an apartment, and you buy one. He wants you, and apparently even our seven years together aren't enough to make you say no."

"That's not fair," Isla said hoarsely.

I laughed.

"Fair?"

My eyes burned, but I refused to cry in front of them.

"You legally married another man while planning a wedding with me, Isla. Don't talk to me about fair."

Damien suddenly grabbed Isla's arm.

"Don't fight because of me. I'll leave."

I saw the familiar performance beginning and felt nothing this time.

"No," I said.

Both of them looked at me.

"You don't need to leave, Damien."

His expression flickered.

I looked directly at Isla.

"He's your husband. This is exactly where he belongs."

"Nate—"

"And I'm the one who doesn't belong here."

I reached into my pocket and removed the key to the apartment Isla and I shared.

For years, that key had hung beside a small silver charm she'd given me on our first anniversary.

I removed the charm too.

Then I placed both on the table beside their wine.

"You don't have to choose anymore."

Isla's eyes widened.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying congratulations."

My voice trembled only once.

"I blessed your marriage before. Consider this the official version."

I turned toward the door.

Isla grabbed my wrist.

"No."

Her fingers tightened desperately.

"Nate, you can't leave like this. We have a baby. We have seven years together. You can't just erase everything because I made a mistake."

I looked down at her hand.

"A mistake happens once."

Then I looked into her eyes.

"You made a choice every single day."

Her grip loosened.

I pulled free.

Behind her, Damien stood completely silent now. There was no triumph on his face anymore.

Maybe even he had finally realized that the game he'd been playing had reached its end.

Isla followed me into the hallway.

"Nate!"

I kept walking.

"Nate, stop! Please!"

The elevator doors opened.

She caught up just as I stepped inside.

Her eyes were red.

"Give me until tomorrow," she begged. "I'll fix everything. I'll divorce him. I'll do whatever you want."

I looked at the woman I had loved for seven years.

Yesterday, those words might have saved us.

Today, they were simply too late.

"You already had until tomorrow, Isla."

The elevator doors began to close.

She reached between them desperately, forcing them open again.

"Then tell me what you want!" she cried. "Tell me how to make this right!"

I stared at her for a long moment.

Then I finally gave her an answer.

"Stay married to him."

Her face went blank.

"That's what you kept choosing anyway."

This time, when the doors closed, she didn't stop them.

As the elevator descended, I leaned against the wall and finally let myself breathe.

My phone vibrated repeatedly in my pocket.

Isla.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I turned it off.

Then, for the first time in seven years, I started thinking about a future that didn't have Isla Farrow in it.