Chapter 5
I didn’t ask Ben how close they had seemed that day.
I had seen it for myself.
I saved his email and replied.
“I never authorized the use of this concept. Please don’t use any photos from that session to promote your studio.”
Then I closed my inbox.
After the afternoon shoot, my sister came to pick me up. I showed her the screenshot Ben had sent.
Standing beside the shooting table, her expression darkened.
“He passed Chloe off as his wife?”
I nodded and put away the tablet.
“I want to talk to a lawyer.”
She looked at me for a moment, then set down her car keys.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know when it started between them. I don’t even know if the baby is his.” I zipped up my camera bag. “But those photos are real. So is that email.”
I stopped, swallowing against the tightness in my throat.
“I don’t want to keep making excuses for him.”
My sister came over and rested a hand on my arm.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
On the drive back, I used my phone to book a consultation with a divorce attorney.
When I reached the field for my spouse’s name, my fingers hovered over the screen.
Four years earlier, we had filled out our marriage license application together. Luke had sat beside me and caught a letter I’d left out of his name.
He’d laughed and said I was so nervous I’d forgotten how to spell it.
This time, I didn’t miss a single letter.
Once the appointment was confirmed, I put my phone away.
That evening, my sister cleared half the guest room closet for me.
I hung up the clothes from my travel bag, one piece at a time.
The last thing I took out was the pair of white baby socks.
My sister stood in the doorway without coming in.
I placed the socks in the nightstand drawer beside the ultrasound picture.
“I’ll go with you to your next appointment,” she said softly.
I looked up at her and nodded.
I woke several times that night.
The last time, I reached across the empty space beside me before remembering I had already left home.
I didn’t open my messages with Luke.
The next afternoon, a new message appeared on my screen.
“I’m coming home today. Don’t work tonight. I’ll make dinner reservations.”
It was the day he’d said he would return when he left on our anniversary.
I read the message, set my phone aside, and went back to exporting photos for my client.
Half an hour later, he called.
I didn’t answer.
The ringing stopped. A voice message followed.
“Still working? I bought your favorite dessert. I’ll bring it home tonight.”
He sounded relaxed.
As if all he had to do was walk through the door carrying a box, and I would take his coat, just like always, and let the missed anniversary slide.
I closed the message.
A little after five, my sister arrived at the studio to wait for me. She sat on the couch while I sent the last email delivering the finished photos.
Then I began packing up.
My phone lit up.
“I’m home. When will you be back?”
I zipped my bag shut.
Another message followed almost immediately.
“Why are your toiletries gone? Half the closet is empty, too.”
My sister looked up at me.
I silenced my phone and switched off the desk lamp.
We were at the door when the screen lit up again.
This time, it was a photo.
The gift box I had left behind was open.
Luke had taken out my wedding ring. It lay in his palm.
There was only one line beneath the picture.
“Ava, what do you mean by leaving your wedding ring behind?”
A second later, his incoming call took over the screen.