Chapter 8: What Rick Said When I Finally Answered
He called four more times over the next two days.
I let them all go to voicemail.
I listened to each one.
They followed a pattern — first apologetic, then quieter, then one that was just silence for eleven seconds before he hung up.
On the third day, I called him back.
He answered before the second ring.
"Ellen."
"I read the letter," I said.
"The one you gave Diane to hold."
A long pause.
"She gave it to you."
"Yes."
"I didn't think she would."
"I think she surprised both of us." I was sitting at the kitchen table.
Anna was upstairs.
I had waited until she was upstairs.
"I want to ask you something and I need you to answer me honestly.
Not carefully.
Honestly."
"Okay."
"If Anna hadn't come back.
If she had stayed away and never said anything — were you ever going to tell me?"
The silence lasted long enough that I had my answer before he spoke.
"I told myself I would," he said finally.
"I had a version in my head where I told you everything once things were more settled.
Once we'd had more time together."
"But?"
"But I don't know if I actually would have.
I think I might have kept waiting until it felt safe." He paused.
"And it never would have felt safe."
"No," I said.
"It wouldn't have."
"Ellen, I know I don't have the right to ask you for anything.
But I need you to know that I have not spoken to Diane since October.
Whatever she told you—"
"She told me the truth.
Which is more than I can say."
He went quiet.
"There was a pregnancy before me too," I said.
"Three years together.
You told me you'd never been in anything serious."
"I know."
"That wasn't a mistake, Rick.
That was a decision.
You decided what I was allowed to know about your life before you married me."
"I was afraid you wouldn't want me if you knew."
"You were probably right," I said.
"And you took that choice away from me."
I heard him exhale.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I've spoken to a solicitor.
We're going to begin the process of annulment on grounds of misrepresentation." I kept my voice level.
"She believes we have a strong case."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"I won't fight it," he said.
"I know you won't."
"Is there anything—" He stopped.
Started again.
"Is there anything I can do?
For you or for Anna?"
"You can sign the paperwork when it arrives," I said.
"That's what you can do."
"Ellen." His voice cracked slightly on my name.
"I am sorry.
I know that doesn't fix anything.
I just need you to know that it's real."
I thought about the letter.
About the careful handwriting.
About the phrase *I chose you, every day* written two weeks into a marriage he was already preparing to survive the collapse of.
"I believe you're sorry," I said.
"I just don't think sorry is the point anymore."
I ended the call.
I sat at the table for a moment.
The house was very quiet.
Then Anna appeared in the kitchen doorway in her socks, holding a book she'd clearly stopped reading.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"It's done," I said.
"Or it will be."
She came and sat across from me.
"Are you okay?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I think I will be," I said.
"I think that's enough for today."
She nodded.
She opened her book again but didn't read it.
She just sat there with me in the quiet kitchen, which was exactly what I needed.
May you like
Outside, it had started to rain.
Lightly, steadily, the kind of rain that doesn't ask anything of you.
