I Spent Ten Days In The ICU And My Fiancé Didn't Visit Once — When I Was Finally Discharged And Stepped Into Our Apartment, I Froze In The Doorway

I picked it up.

Brandon moved toward me.

"Just let me explain it first —"

"Sit down," I said.

He sat.

I unfolded the paper.

My hands were steady.

I don't know how that was possible either, but they were.

It was a lease agreement.

Not for our apartment.

For a different address — an address I didn't recognize, on the other side of the city.

A two-bedroom.

Signed by Brandon.

Co-signed by Kayla.

The start date was three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago I was in the ICU with a collapsed lung.

I read the address again.

Then I looked at Kayla.

She finally looked back at me.

Her eyes were red.

I didn't know if it was guilt or just the shock of being caught, and I realized I didn't care which.

"You signed a lease," I said.

Not a question.

She didn't answer.

"Kayla." My voice was flat.

"You signed a lease with my fiancé while I was in the hospital."

"Nicole —"

"How long?" I asked again.

Same question I'd asked Brandon.

Same silence.

Lily's hand tightened around mine.

I looked down at her.

Eight years old, standing in the doorway of my bedroom, watching her aunt and her almost-stepfather fail to find a single word to say.

"Lily," I said quietly.

"Go downstairs, sweetheart.

Get your bag."

"Mom —"

"It's okay.

I just need a minute.

Go."

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she let go of my hand and walked down the hall.

I heard her footsteps on the stairs, slow and reluctant.

I turned back to the room.

Brandon had pulled on a shirt.

He was standing near the window, not looking at me, jaw working like he was rehearsing something.

"Say it," I said.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"That's not an answer."

He turned.

"We were going to tell you.

After you recovered.

We didn't want to —"

"You didn't want to what?

Upset me?

While I was in the ICU?" My voice finally cracked on that last word.

Just slightly.

I pressed my hand against my ribs and breathed through it.

"You visited once, Brandon.

Twenty minutes.

I called you from the hospital lobby this morning and you sent me to voicemail."

"I know."

"You knew I was coming home today."

"I know."

"And you were here.

With her."

He didn't answer.

That was its own kind of answer.

I looked at Kayla.

She was dressed now, standing near the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest like she was cold.

"How long?" I asked her directly.

She closed her eyes.

"Seven months."

Seven months.

I did the math without wanting to.

Seven months ago I had been planning our wedding.

I had asked Kayla to be my maid of honor.

She had cried when I asked her.

Happy tears, she'd said.

"You cried," I said.

She opened her eyes.

"What?"

"When I asked you to be my maid of honor.

You cried.

Seven months ago.

While this was already happening."

Her arms dropped to her sides.

She didn't say anything.

I folded the lease agreement and put it in my pocket.

"I want you both out of this apartment," I said.

"Today."

Brandon's head came up.

"Nicole, this is my apartment too.

My name is on the —"

"I know whose name is on the lease." I looked at him.

"And I know whose name is on that other lease.

So you have somewhere to go."

He opened his mouth.

"Today," I said again.

I walked out of the bedroom, pulled the door shut behind me, and stood in the hallway with my back against the wall and both hands pressed flat against the wallpaper.

Downstairs, I could hear Lily moving around.

The sound of the refrigerator opening.

The small ordinary sound of my daughter in a kitchen that was about to stop being ours.

I pushed off the wall and went downstairs.

I had three broken ribs and a lung that still ached when I breathed too deep.

I had a lease agreement in my pocket with my sister's signature on it.

And I had my daughter standing at the bottom of the stairs, her backpack already on, looking up at me with an expression no eight-year-old should know how to make.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

I hadn't thought that far yet.

But I didn't let her see that.

"Grandma's," I said.

She nodded like that was exactly right.

Like she'd already known.

I took her hand and we walked out the front door together.

I didn't look back at the stairs.

I didn't look back at anything.

But as I pulled the door shut, I heard Brandon's voice from upstairs, low and urgent, and then Kayla's voice answering.