“Claire.”
“I know.”
“Are you crying?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No.”
“What do you need?”
I looked at the lease.
“For you to come tomorrow.”
“The dinner?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was a surprise for Marcus.”
“It still is.”
The next morning, Marcus woke up cheerful.
He walked into the kitchen wearing gym shorts and kissed my forehead.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
He opened the cabinet.
“Did you make coffee?”
“There’s some left.”
He poured himself a cup.
Apparently, the previous night had disappeared completely from his memory.
“I’m meeting Derek around eleven,” he said. “We’re going through equipment for the commercial.”
“Okay.”
“Probably won’t be back until seven.”
“That works.”
He smiled.
“Why?”
“No reason.”
He grabbed his keys.
Then he turned around.
“Hey.”
“Yes?”
“About last night…”
My heart stopped for half a second.
Then he continued:
“Just don’t take everything personally, okay? I’m under a lot of pressure.”
That was his apology.
Not I’m sorry.
Not I shouldn’t have said that.
Just another request for me to absorb whatever he gave me.
I smiled faintly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
His shoulders relaxed.
“Love you.”
I watched him walk out.
“Bye, Marcus.”
The door closed.
At 9:18 a.m., I called our property manager.
At 9:31, I submitted written notice that I would not renew the lease when it expired in thirty-five days.
At 9:46, I removed my payment information from Marcus’s software accounts.
At 10:02, I stopped the automatic transfer that paid his phone bill.
At 10:17, I called my bank about the equipment payment connected to my card.
Everything that legally belonged to Marcus remained his.
Everything that belonged to me was coming with me.
By noon, I had signed a lease on a smaller one-bedroom apartment fifteen minutes from my office.
It had huge windows.
A balcony.
And, for the first time in years, a room that didn’t contain a single tripod.
Natalie arrived at one carrying cardboard boxes.
She took one look at me.
“You’re actually doing it.”
“I am.”
“You sure?”
I looked around the apartment.
“For the first time in a decade.”
She nodded.
“Then tell me where to start.”
We packed for five hours.
I took my books.
My dishes.
My photographs.
My grandmother’s lamp.
My desk.
