Chapter 3

The day I was discharged, it was pouring rain.

I took a cab back to my place by myself.

The lock had already been changed.

I tried the code twice before someone finally came to the door.

Samantha was wearing my slippers, and she had on Henry's white shirt.

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you the code's been changed," she said.

She stepped aside, letting me see the entryway.

My clothes and books were stuffed into a few cardboard boxes, dumped all over the floor. Next to the boxes was a stroller, with a little bear trinket hanging from the handle.

Our graduation photo used to hang in the entryway.

Henry had on a borrowed graduation gown, I was right beside him, and Samantha was behind us, flashing bunny ears over our heads.

Now the frame was gone, just a pale square left on the wall.

I'd only bought that frame half a year ago.

When I first found out I was pregnant, Henry said it was too early to buy anything. But I still secretly bought a little trinket, planning to give it to him when he was ready to talk about the baby.

Now it was hanging from another child's stroller.

I walked over and took it down.

Samantha immediately reached out. "The baby likes this."

"It's mine," I said.

"It's just a trinket," she scoffed.

"Then hand it over," I replied.

Henry came out of the study and saw us tugging at each other. His brows knitted together.

Samantha let go. "I was just worried she'd take the baby's things."

Henry looked at me. "You've already taken enough as it is."

I stuffed the trinket into my pocket. I didn't bother arguing.

Samantha pointed at the cardboard box. "Everything of yours is in there. I had the mattress thrown out. You slept on it, and I think it's filthy."

Henry didn't say a word.

I glanced into the living room.

Our matching mugs on the coffee table had been swapped out for a brand new set. The travel magnets that had clung to the fridge for eight years were all gone, and the photo album of Henry and me was missing from the bookshelf.

Two large black trash bags sat next to the bin.

The tops weren't tied. Our old white mugs were shattered, one handle sticking out, and a corner of a blue cover peeked out from the bag.

That was our college photo album.

I walked over and pulled it out.

The cover was soaked, and a few pages were stuck together. The first page showed Henry telling me he loved me outside the dorm, with the date scribbled on the back.

Samantha reached for it. "You can't take that."

"Why not?" I asked.

"It's full of pictures of Henry. It's not good for the baby to see them when they grow up," she said.

I looked at Henry.

He just shrugged, "It's just old stuff, Grace. No point holding onto it."

"Just old stuff?" I repeated.

"Grace, now's not the time to dig up the past," Henry said quietly.

Samantha snatched the album from my hands and tossed it back into the trash bag once more.

The photos landed softly against the broken mug pieces, making a barely audible sound.

Eight years, and it all fit into a single trash bag.

I bent down to pick up the box, and the pain from my wound shot through me. Everything went dark for a moment.

Mary came over to help, but Samantha stopped her.

"Don't touch her. She'll just say we're bullying a patient," Samantha said.

I sat in the entryway for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to pass before dragging the boxes out one by one.

While Samantha wasn't looking, Mary slipped a brown paper bag into my box.

"These are the payment receipts you used to keep for Henry's grandma," she said.

I shook my head. "Put them back where they belong."

"But you paid for these," she insisted.

"Grandma already has a copy," I said.

I didn't take it.

I figured I'd never see it again.

When I was moving out the last box, Henry followed me outside.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'll stay at a hotel for now," I replied.

"So, you're still waiting for me to ask you to stay?" Henry said.

I looked up at him.

Over eight years, I'd seen him at his most vulnerable, drunk and clinging to the trash can, waiting outside all night for a contract, and with teary eyes when he got his first investment, whispering, "Grace, we finally made it."

But now, he felt like a stranger standing miles away from me.

I said, "Henry, I'm not coming back."

He let out a short laugh. "Don't be so sure, Grace.

"Where do you think you'll go?

"Your company's already called to suspend you, your family's cut you off, and whatever cash you had, you handed over to Samantha.

"Grace, without me, you won't even be able to pay your hospital bills."

I looked at him. "So you really think I'll come back?"

"What else?" he replied.

He sounded so calm, like he'd already planned it all out.

From the start, there was never a second option for me.

If I stayed, he'd say I was just after his money.

If I left, he'd just wait for me to come crawling back once I'm broke.

No matter what I chose, he'd always make it look like he was right.

"If you leave me, who's going to take care of Grandma?" he asked.

"That's your problem," I replied.

His face darkened. "Bringing up Grandma again, huh?"

I didn't say another word.

The elevator arrived.

I hauled my box into the elevator. Right before the doors closed, Samantha called out. "Henry, the baby needs a bath. Come help me out."

He turned and went back inside.

The elevator doors slowly slid shut.

I slipped my hand into my pocket, feeling the little bear trinket, and held it tight.

*****

A week later, I went to a college reunion dinner.

Vera Collins was moving to Newbridge for work next month and wanted to see everyone before she left. I'd already promised I'd come, but on the day of the dinner, she messaged me again to make sure I was still coming.

I told her I'd be there.

I'd already bought my ticket to leave Rivergate that night. This dinner was my goodbye.