Chapter 3
She asked it naturally. She made me feel like an unexpected guest in my own home.
My future home. My husband's friend. In sleepwear, opening my bedroom door.
I gripped the strap of my bag. Anger burned in my throat, but I forced my voice to stay calm.
"This is my house," I said. "I was about to ask you the same question."
Natalie gave me a very apologetic little smile. She looked almost helpless.
"A few weeks ago," she said easily. "My apartment had a huge plumbing leak. It was a total mess. Ethan said this place was just sitting empty anyway, so he offered to let me crash here."
My stomach dropped. A few weeks ago.
That was the exact same week Ethan hugged me crying. That was the night he promised we would move in together.
Instead, he moved her in.
I looked at the bed again.
I didn't know whether Ethan had slept in it with her.
I knew he had given her the room he kept telling me wasn't ready.
That was enough to ask about.
I walked past her. I went straight to the baby room.
I froze in the doorway. This room was supposed to be a nursery. Now, it was a storage space.
The tiny newborn clothes I bought were gone from the shelves. They were stuffed roughly into a brown cardboard box in the corner.
Someone had pushed my baby's things aside. They made room for Natalie's pink yoga mat and a set of weights.
Natalie followed me inside. She glanced at the cardboard box.
"I am so sorry about the mess," she said gently. "Ethan told me I could use this empty room for my morning yoga. He said you guys would not need it for a long time."
Arguing with Natalie would only turn Ethan's lie into a contest between two women. I reached for the box instead.
I walked over and picked up the box.
Natalie watched without offering to help.
I didn't ask her to.
Downstairs, I put on my shoes beside hers. The heel of one slipper was flattened from use.
She was comfortable here.
I was carrying my baby's things out in a bag.
I had spent weeks worrying that asking again would make me seem impatient. She hadn't needed to wait at all. He had opened the door for her while keeping me outside.
That evening, Ethan came home.
He took off his tie. He poured me a glass of warm water. He looked like the perfect, caring husband.
I sat on the couch. My hands were cold. I decided to give him one last chance to tell the truth.
"Ethan," I asked quietly. "Can we move into the house this weekend?"
He barely paused.
"Not yet. The smell is still too strong. I won't take any chances with you or the baby."
"Has anyone been staying there?"
His hand stopped for half a second on the grocery bag.
Then he shook his head.
"No. Why would anyone be staying there?"
That answer hurt more than finding the pink slippers.
He had been given a direct question.
He chose the lie.
"All right," I said.
Ethan came around the counter and rubbed my shoulder.
He thought I was just disappointed about the delay.
"Hey, don't be sad," he said, trying to cheer me up. "On Friday, we'll choose the crib. Once everything is ready, we'll move in."
He rubbed my shoulder affectionately.
"I will leave work early and meet you at the furniture store," he promised. "We will choose the best one together. Just the two of us."
I nodded.
He smiled, certain that another promise about the future would end the conversation.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was a message from my sister.
[The spare room is ready. Tell me when to come.]
I looked at Ethan as he unpacked the groceries, still believing I knew nothing.
Then I typed my reply.
[Friday. After he leaves to meet me at the baby store.]