Page 29 of The Vow Thief
Her head lifted, and a smile tugged at her mouth. It was real, not the polite kind she had perfected over the last ten months.“You’re glowing,” she said.“Your energy is on fire.”
The praise loosened something in my chest. I sat down across from her, eager to share all of it.“This could change everything, Sarah. Holloway’s thrilled, the clients are locked in, and Charleston is alive in a way this place hasn’t been for me in years. If he puts the relocation back on the table, we could make Charleston ours. A clean slate. The kids would love it.”
She listened, nodding along, until the towels were stacked into a tidy column. Then she placed another on top and smoothed the edge with her palm.“I’m not ready to leave, Matt. But I think it’s a great idea for you to go. Start fresh. Focus on your work in a new city. Charleston alone will keep you busy.”
The words sounded generous, almost kind. But they wrenched the air out of me all the same.
“I—” I started, but she was already moving on.
“Oh, I found some of your clothes in the laundry. I put them in the bag by the door for when you go home tonight.”
Home tonight. Not here. Not with her.
I glanced toward the door. A navy duffel leaned against the frame, zipped and waiting. I forced a smile I didn’t feel.“Thanks. I’ll grab it before I leave.”
She nodded and turned back to folding. I sat there a moment longer, staring at her hands moving in a steady rhythm, waiting for her eyes to find mine. They didn’t.
The bag wasn’t laundry. It was a verdict.
What the fuck. I guess absence didn’t make her heart grow fonder.
But I told myself the lie I needed to survive. She was making me work for it. Testing me. And I would. I’d grovel another ten months, another ten years if I had to. Because the alternative, that she had already let go, was too much to accept.
I left after another thirty minutes of awkward silence, back to my lonely apartment.
The next morning, the office felt strange. Familiar, but missing something. Missing her. Lily’s desk was empty, her perfume absent from the air, the usual static of her presence nowhere to be found. For the first time in months, I didn’t have to brace for the hit of her smirk or the sharp sting of her voice. I thought I would feel relief. Instead, the silence scraped. Holloway stopped by my office to congratulate me again on Charleston. He called it a“sign of good things to come,” and I let him believe it. But once he left, the walls felt close, the air heavy. The success didn’t feel the same without someone watching me, burning for me to succeed. I buried myself in numbers until the clock told me it was time to leave. Tonight I had a therapy session.
Dr. Colleen’s office was the same as always, steady and warm, but the chair felt more hostile than usual when I dropped into it.
“You look restless,” she said.
“Restless is my baseline,” I muttered, leaning back until the leather sighed under me.
She waited, pen poised but still, the way she always did.
“I told Sarah about my success in Charleston,” I finally said.“I came home ready to celebrate, to let her see what it felt like for me to win again. She smiled, said my energy was on fire. For a second, I thought it meant something. That maybe we had turned a corner.”
Colleen gave me nothing. Just that patient stillness that made me talk more.
“But then she said she wasn’t ready to leave. She said Charleston would be good for me. Not for us. Just me.” I rubbed at my jaw, hating the way it sounded out loud.“She was smiling, but she was cutting me out of the picture at the same time.”
Her eyes flicked to mine.“And what did you hear in that?”
“That she doesn’t believe in us anymore.” My voice cracked sharper than I wanted. I stretched my arms along the sides of the chair like I could take up more space than I felt.“Still, I know I’m doing the right thing by holding this marriage together. It has to be the right thing.”
She leaned forward slightly.“The right thing according to whom?”
“According to anyone with sense,” I said, too fast.“You don’t walk away because it gets hard. You don’t let your kids watch you quit. You fix it. You hold it together.”
Her pen tapped once against the pad.“That sounds like duty, Matt. Obligation. Important, yes. But obligation doesn’t create connection. It doesn’t heal what’s been broken.”
I laughed, brittle.“So what, I should have left? Called it quits and ran off with Lily?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m asking you to notice your own words. You came back elated. You told Sarah about the deal because you thought it would bring her closer. Instead, she drew a line. And now you’re sitting here defending yourself to me. That sounds less like conviction and more like defense.”
Her voice was calm, but the truth in it hit harder than anything Sarah had said.
I dragged a hand over my face.“It is the right thing. Even if passion is gone. Even if it doesn’t feel the same. Staying has to be right.”
