Chapter 5
Charles's voice went cold. "You don't know?"
Alex answered quickly. "Mr. Reed, Mrs. Reed's schedule doesn't go through me. But Ms. Grant was at the venue this afternoon and said Mrs. Sarah had already spoken with Ms. Wynn. She said not to worry."
Charles's fingers tightened around the phone.
Not to worry?
He looked down at the itemized list, and the corner of the page creased under his thumb.
The first entry, office rent. He remembered that stretch of time.
He remembered me handing the money to the landlord and saying, "Charles, just get through this first."
He'd been moved back then.
Once the company found its footing, he'd always meant to pay me back someday, and someday had dragged on until now.
The second entry, the ER bill.
His stomach had hurt until his face went white, and I was the one who'd helped him downstairs.
When he woke that day, he'd seen me slumped asleep at the side of the hospital bed, the payment slip still clutched in my hand. He'd stroked my hair and said, "You've had it rough."
So it turned out those words, had it rough, came to five thousand dollars once they landed on paper.
The third entry, project materials.
The fourth, the birthday-dinner gift.
The fifth, the team relocation.
Every line was tagged with a reference number. Chat records, invoices, screenshots.
Not one word of blame. That stung worse than blame would have, because she hadn't even bothered to fight.
Charles turned to the last page of the list. It stated [Settled in full, no further claims.]
He stared at that sentence for a long time, then reached up and loosened his tie.
The phone rang. It was Sophia. He answered without speaking.
Her voice was very soft. "Charlie, are you home?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"Is Ms. Wynn alright?"
Charles looked at the empty living room, his tone off. "She moved out."
Sophia drew in a breath on the other end. "How could it be this sudden? Did she misunderstand something?"
Charles didn't answer.
"Mrs. Reed might have spoken a little harshly today," Sophia went on, "but it was for your sake, too. Ms. Wynn has a proud streak. She probably just can't accept it for the moment."
She paused, as though caught in a hard spot. "She loves you so much, she won't really leave. Maybe she just wants you to give in first."
Charles didn't pick the thread up right away. The words sat too easily in his ear. Easy enough to press down, for now, the unease that the list on the table had stirred up.
He sank onto the couch and rubbed the space between his brows. "She's been like this before."
Sophia asked gently, "Before?"
"One time I canceled a date last minute, and she ignored me for two days."
"And then?"
"And then I went to pick her up after work, and she was fine."
Sophia laughed softly. "Then go find her tomorrow and smooth things over properly. Ms. Wynn just cares about you too much."
Charles just replied with a quiet "Yeah."
After the call ended, he sat in the living room for a long while. The air was missing a trace of the laundry detergent I always used.
He got up to get water in the kitchen and saw only the blue mug left on the counter. The white one was gone.
He frowned and opened the fridge. There were no wontons I'd folded on the weekend, no honey water he always drank, no bento box. Only two bottles of mineral water and half a carton of eggs.
Charles finally felt a flicker of irritation and turned back toward the bedroom.
The closet door slid open. The left side was empty. A few bare hangers were all that hung on the rail, swaying, knocking together with a faint sound.
He stood there, as though the hollowness of the room had finally struck him full in the face.
Then he saw that the garment bag at the very back of the closet was gone too. A camel coat had hung inside it. My favorite one.
The year he got his first project bonus, he'd taken me to the mall and said he wanted to buy me something on the pricier side.
I'd tried that coat on for a long time, checked the tag, and put it back.
Charles swiped his card and bought it, and as he draped it over me, he said, "From now on, I'll make it so you never have to look at a price tag."
I'd been so happy that day, I spun in front of the mirror three times. Every winter after that, I could hardly bear to wear it too often.
Charles had always assumed it was the thing I'd least be willing to part with. Now the garment bag was empty. She'd taken it.
He reached out and touched a bare hanger, and his face finally changed.
She'd taken even that coat. So she wasn't sulking. She had truly, piece by piece, lifted herself out of this place.