Page 6 of The Promise Of You

I cross my arms. “I’m going to need to rent a U-Haul. And I’ll need time to pack. And it’s already night.”

He disappears into the bedroom and comes back with a duffel bag. “Move out by tomorrow night,” he says before slamming the door on his way out.

My eyes well up. Three years together, the last six months not so great, but this? I never saw this coming. What did I miss? How can he just write me off like that? My vision blurs as I think back to the blonde. And here I was thinking he’d be proposing soon. What an idiot! I don’t know if I’m more hurt or ashamed.

I shake myself out of my pity party and call my mom. I misjudged the situation, me, Tucker. Clearly, I missed so many things. I need to focus back on my family. Starting with Mom, who’s just lost her brother.

She’s shaken, and I hardly recognize her voice as she tries to quell her sobs. “I wish I’d seen him more often,” she manages to say.

“They lived far away. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Not that far. Anyway,” she continues, forcing fake strength into her voice. “The funeral is next week. Do you think you can make it? Maybe Tucker too?” She likes Tucker, and so does Dad. He’s everything they want in a son-in-law. Good family. Successful, even if he makes less than I do. It’s only a matter of time for him to be fast-tracked by his father into a brilliant career.

Shame washes through me when I tell her what happened—the PG-13 version.

“Oh, honey.” Is that disappointment in her tone? It can’t be. She’s probably sad for me or upset. “Boys will be boys. And men have needs. Are you sure he was getting what he needed at home?”

My toes curl. No, he clearly wasn’t getting what he needed, or wanted. But is it entirely my fault? Really? And can’t my own mother stand by my side, even if I’m to blame for Tucker straying?

Also—cheating? Is that something she would let Dad get away with?

And in our bed? Not that that matters.

God, I don’t even know what to say to her.

My voice is unsteady when I ask her, “Um… do you know what day Uncle Kevin’s funeral will be?” That’s a safer conversation than discussing if my dreams of a blissful marriage were shattered by my callous boyfriend or by me being too self-centered.

“Next Monday. Daddy and I will be staying at the lake house. It’s only an hour away from Kevin’s. Why don’t you go there right away, get yourself centered. Maybe see if Tucker will come to his senses and join you there. It’s very romantic. I always loved it.”

I didn’t know Mom loved the house on Lake Champlain. It must be the recent loss of her brother that’s making her sentimental. Dad and she bought the house fairly recently, and I’m not attached to it. But it’ll be a perfect place to lick my wounds while I look for another job and another apartment. “Thanks, Mom.” And no, I won’t be asking Tucker to join me and reconsider.

“I’ll text you the door code.”

“Thanks.”

“And talk to Tucker, honey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Breathe in, breathe out.

I go to the bedroom and pack my clothes in suitcases. Then I make a mental inventory of all the things that are mine here, the things that made this apartment feel like a home—at least to me. I don’t want to leave anything behind.

At least not objects.

My disillusionment can stay behind. Because really, what does it say about me that I just didn’t see it coming? Didn’t suspect anything was off? Dry spells happen, don’t they? It shouldn’t be anything else than just that—a spell.

The next day, after a few short hours of restless sleep on the couch, I buy packing supplies and rent a U-Haul, thankful my secondhand Honda Civic came with a hitch.

I’m on autopilot while I sort through three years of a life in common. The Moroccan carpet is definitely mine. The coffee table, too, and I’m not leaving it here, even if it’s a nightmare to carry down the steps alone.

While I pack the rest, I try to shut down Mom’s voice in my head. Try to ignore her questioning, but still it pops in my thoughts. What did I do wrong? Was working long hours to make a good living a wrong thing to do? Is being ambitious and driven wrong? Was it wrong to want it all? The career, the husband, and happiness to top it off?

It looks like it was. Because it’s all gone now. Even our friends, I realize, are really all his.

Guess what, Chloe? It’s time to let that go.

Driving out of the city, my nerves are raw. But it’s only because of the trailer behind my car. Because thinking about Tucker as I glance in my rearview mirror before changing lanes, a sense of relief washes over me. It’s over.

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