Chapter 4

The morning Daniel left to collect Brooke, I picked up the keys to another apartment.

Maya met me at the house with empty boxes.

Daniel's suitcase was gone.

Mine stood open on the bed.

We packed my clothes, documents, work equipment, and the things I used every morning. Anything larger would be collected by arrangement.

My phone kept lighting up on the coffee table.

The first message was from Daniel.

"Hey, do you remember the confirmation code for the rental car?"

Ten minutes later, he texted again.

"Brooke forgot her phone charger. Did you pack a spare one in my bag?"

I stared at the screen. He was on my anniversary trip with another woman.

But he still expected me to be his travel agent.

I sent one reply.

"I'm no longer managing this trip. Contact the providers directly. I've sent you an email about the separation. Please read it."

Daniel said he couldn't deal with that while travelling.

Then I turned off the notifications.

Before leaving, I checked the wardrobe once.

My side was nearly empty.

I closed it and took the last bag downstairs.

At the apartment, Maya helped me make the bed.

That evening, I opened my social media. Brooke had posted a new photo.

She was wearing her new sun hat. She was sitting at another ocean-view restaurant near the resort. The table was not the one I had canceled, but the flowers, the candles, and the water behind her recreated the anniversary dinner I had planned.

The caption read: "Thankful for good friends who always take care of me."

Daniel commented right below it. "You deserve a break. Glad you are smiling again."

He ignored my message about email. But he had plenty of time to reply to her public posts.

On Monday, I began the project.

During the week, I spoke with the lawyer, supplied documents, and arranged for future practical matters to be handled in writing.

I sent Daniel the contact details.

He replied to a different message, asking where I'd saved a reservation number.

I left it unanswered.

I had checked that the email had been sent. I wasn't going to spend another evening asking him to open something he didn't want to read.

A week later, my phone buzzed on my kitchen counter. It was a motion alert from my old house's doorbell camera.

I opened the live video feed.

Daniel and Brooke stood on the front porch. Brooke's ride from the airport had fallen through. Daniel brought her to our house to wait.

I watched them through my screen.

"Is she still mad at me?" Brooke asked. She looked nervously at the front door.

Daniel unlocked the deadbolt. He smiled.

"Do not worry about Claire," Daniel told Brooke. "She acts tough. But she will be fine once we see each other."

They walked inside. The video feed ended.

Ten minutes later, my phone rang. The caller ID showed Daniel's name.

I answered the call.

"Claire? Where are you going?" Daniel demanded. His voice echoed loudly. He was standing in our empty hallway. "Well, the house is a mess. "

"I sent the information about how we'll communicate. Open my email."

"Which email?"

"The one I asked you to read."

I waited.

I heard him walk into the home office. I heard him pull out the heavy wooden chair.

He clicked his mouse. The keyboard clicked a few times.

Then the sound stopped.