Chapter 2
I headed to the house Simon and I were meant to share.
Simon had purchased the home before our engagement. I had covered one third of all renovation fees.
I personally sourced and arranged every piece of interior decor.
I once truly believed this space belonged to me.
I unlocked the door and spotted an unfamiliar pair of slippers by the entryway.
Folic acid, calcium tablets and prenatal vitamins lined the shoe cabinet's surface.
My perfume bottle had been shoved into a far corner of the cabinet.
Maya sat upon the living room couch, clad in my personal loungewear.
She jumped hastily to her feet the moment she caught sight of me.
"Claire, you're here?" she blurted out.
I glanced over at the master bedroom.
The door hung halfway open.
The wedding photo of Simon and me that sat on the nightstand was gone without a trace.
A maternity shot of Maya now hung right there instead.
She smiled softly, one hand resting light on her bump.
I stepped into the bedroom.
Inside the closet, all my loungewear, sweaters and winter coats got stuffed into two cardboard boxes.
A sticky note was stuck to the boxes.
[Ms. Evans' belongings, stash these in the storage room for now.]
The neat, delicate handwriting was obviously Maya's.
Maya trailed after me to the doorway, eyes slowly glistening with tears.
"Claire, I'm only crashing here temporarily. I get so spooked staying alone in my rental at night, and Simon's worried sick about the baby too," she said.
I picked the sticky note up off the box. "Who said you could touch my belongings?"
She bit down on her lip. "Perfume scents make me sick; my morning sickness is brutal. I'm sorry, I never thought you'd care this much," she said.
Fast footsteps echoed through the hallway outside.
Simon burst straight into the room.
He turned to Maya first. "Are you feeling alright?"
Maya shook her head softly, tears clinging to her eyelashes.
"I'm fine, Simon. Don't blame Claire. I had no right to move in," she said.
Simon finally shifted his gaze to me. "Claire, why didn't you shoot me a heads-up before coming home?"
The whole thing struck me as ridiculous. "Do I need to schedule a visit to my own house?"
His brows drew tight. "You know that's not what I meant. Maya just left the hospital; she can't handle any stress right now."
I suddenly had no words to respond to him.
He'd abandoned me at our own wedding ceremony.
This space was meant to be our house, yet he told me to tread lightly around her.
I nodded toward the maternity shot on the wall. "Where's my wedding portrait?"
Simon fell quiet for a long beat.
"I stashed it away for now. I worried seeing our wedding photo would remind Maya of Brian," he said.
Brian Carter was Simon's closest childhood friend. They shared a dorm in college and co-founded their startup together.
A car crash took his life six months prior.
Maya had been his wife, and she carried his child now.
Simon always swore he'd look after Maya and her baby to honor his late friend's memory.
I used to wholeheartedly believe that promise.
I'd even joined him to visit Maya, bought maternity pillows, and set up all her doctor's appointments.
I never imagined that all my kindness would turn my own home into hers.
Our house had turned into nothing more than a backdrop for her life.
I crumpled the sticky note tight in my palm. "I'm taking all my belongings with me right now."
Simon stepped forward to block my path.
"Can we skip the drama for today, please?"
I stared straight at him. "Simon, this day was supposed to be our wedding."
He darted his gaze away from mine. "I know, and I'll make this right somehow."
"How exactly will you fix this?" I pressed.
He stood frozen, unable to form a single reply.
Maya's voice shook through quiet sobs. "Claire, I swear I never meant to take anything from you. I could move out this instant. The baby and I shouldn't be putting this burden on anyone."
Simon immediately turned to her. "Don't talk like that." His voice held unmatched tenderness when he spoke to her.
I dragged the two cardboard boxes over, grabbed my wedding portrait, and headed straight for the door.
Before I shut the door, Simon's soft murmur reached my ears as he comforted her. "She's just riled up; don't take it to heart."
I stood in the elevator, wedding portrait pressed to my chest.
At that moment, I felt like an outsider begging for what was mine.