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I Was Counting Down To Leave Him novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Vows in a Drawer

Flora saves every message, moves out unnoticed, and sits through dinner with a husband who has stopped asking her anything.

By sunrise, I had saved every message Langston thought I would never see.

There were photos from hotel rooms and late dinners.

There were jokes about how easily he ended our arguments with coffee or flowers.

One photo showed his watch on a hotel nightstand.

The shirt he had worn home that night hung over the back of Lydia's chair.

I remembered asking why he was so late.

He had kissed my forehead and told me I worried too much.

I sent every screenshot to my lawyer and put the tablet back under the menus.

She had already been drafting the divorce papers for two weeks.

Now she had something else to put in them.

I drove to my mother's cottage with the first boxes of my things.

Langston had been sleeping at Saltmarsh House most nights, preparing for the opening.

He hadn't noticed.

Over the next five days, I finished my work and quietly moved out the rest.

Enid Marden met me at the cottage door each night with a casserole and no questions.

"Eat," she said the first time. "Then tell me or don't."

I ate, and I told her.

She put down her fork and said only, "How long have you known?"

"Since yesterday for sure. Since spring for the rest."

"Then you're leaving him on purpose," she said. "Good. That's different from running."

Langston grew restless.

At the Thursday rehearsal, Lydia stood in front of him, straightening his tie.

His hand rested on her waist.

Last summer I had seen them stand exactly like that at a launch party.

I had pulled Langston aside and asked him to stop touching her.

He had told me I was making his colleagues uneasy.

This time, I walked past them to check the seating chart.

I looked up from my tablet.

Langston had already taken his hand off her. "Does my tie look all right?"

I went back to the seating chart.

When I glanced up again, he was still watching me.

That evening, he followed me into the hotel office and shut the door.

"How long are you going to keep acting like this?"

I looked up from the schedule. "Like what?"

"Like nothing matters to you anymore."

I set down my pen.

He waited, his fingers tight on the back of the chair.

"The wedding is almost here, Langston. I still have a lot to finish."

He looked like he wanted to argue.

I had already opened the next file.

Two nights later, I went to our house to collect some business documents.

Langston arrived with dinner from my favorite restaurant.

He hadn't brought food home for us in months.

We sat across from each other at the kitchen table.

I had barely opened my container when his phone rang.

I knew the name on the screen.

Last winter, I had asked him not to answer her calls during dinner.

He had told me it was ridiculous to ignore an important colleague because I was jealous.

This time, he declined the call.

Then he looked at me. "She's probably calling about tomorrow's rehearsal."

His phone rang again.

He turned it face down without answering.

I took another bite of dinner.

"Flora, I turned it off."

"Thank you."

That was all I said.

Langston stared at me, waiting for the rest.

There was no rest.

I had no question left to ask him.

His food stayed untouched in its container.

When I left, he stood at the kitchen window and watched me drive away.

He didn't ask where I was going.

On the evening before the ceremony, the last of my things were at the cottage.

I checked my work files, confirmed the final vendor payments and read the event schedule one last time.

Then I put my wedding vows in a drawer.

I had written them three years ago.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was my lawyer.

[Before tomorrow: do you remember what you signed at the courthouse?]

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