Chapter 6: What Ruth Had Kept
I called Ruth from a family restroom in the terminal while the babies sat in a row on a changing mat, temporarily distracted by a set of plastic keys I'd dug from the bottom of the bag.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Diane.
Thank you for calling."
"What is it you need to tell me?"
A pause.
Not hesitation — more like she was choosing where to start.
"Eric's bonus," she said.
"The one he told you would pay back your savings."
"Yes."
"There is no bonus.
There hasn't been one for two years.
He was let go from Harmon & Associates fourteen months ago.
He's been telling you he goes to work every day.
He hasn't had a job since March of last year."
The plastic keys hit the floor.
Clara looked at me, startled by my stillness more than the noise.
"That's not possible," I said.
"He leaves every morning.
He comes home at six."
"I know what he does," Ruth said.
"My daughter works at the coffee shop on Clement Street.
She's seen him there.
Most days he arrives around nine and stays until four.
Sometimes he meets people.
Once, she said, he was there with a woman."
Lauren.
Or someone else.
I didn't know anymore.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Because Carol knew," Ruth said.
"My sister.
Eric's mother.
She's known for almost a year.
He asked her not to tell you.
He told her you were planning to leave him anyway, that you were hiding money from him, that he was protecting himself." Her voice tightened.
"I told her she was wrong to stay quiet.
We haven't spoken properly since January."
I sat down on the edge of the changing table.
Clara immediately tried to climb into my lap.
"He's been living off my savings," I said.
"For over a year."
"I believe so, yes.
I don't know the exact amounts.
But I thought you should know before you got to that resort.
Before he had you somewhere with three babies and no working card and no easy way out."
I looked at the door.
On the other side of it, somewhere in this terminal, Eric was standing at a baggage carousel, waiting for me to come and fix the card.
"Ruth," I said.
"Do you know a lawyer?
A good one?"
"My husband is one," she said.
"Retired.
But he still knows people.
I'll text you a name."
"Thank you."
"Diane." Her voice softened.
"I'm sorry it took me this long."
I didn't tell her it was all right.
It wasn't.
But I understood the position she'd been in, caught between her sister and the truth, and I didn't have the energy for anger that wasn't going to help me.
"I have to go," I said.
"He'll be looking for me."
"Be careful," she said.
"When he realizes the card is truly frozen — not just delayed — he's going to push harder."
"I know."
"Don't be alone with him if you can help it."
I hung up.
Gathered the babies.
Took a breath.
Then I opened the restroom door and walked out into the terminal.
Eric was twenty feet away, leaning against a pillar, watching the door.
His face was tight.
"I've been waiting fifteen minutes," he said.
"The babies needed changing."
He looked at the three of them, then back at me.
"We need to sort the card situation.
The hotel needs a deposit."
"I called the bank," I said.
It wasn't entirely a lie.
"There's a hold.
It'll take twenty-four hours to clear."
His jaw worked.
"Twenty-four hours."
"Yes."
"So we have no money for the hotel."
"You could use your card," I said.
He looked at me for a long moment.
And I watched his face as he tried to decide which version of himself to be — the charming husband, the aggrieved partner, the man in control.
None of them quite fit anymore.
"Fine," he said at last.
"We'll sort it at the hotel."
He picked up his bag and walked toward the exit.
I followed, three babies in tow, and texted Lauren a single line: *Don't check in.
Find somewhere else tonight.
I'll explain later.*
Her reply came before I reached the doors.
*Already did.
I'm at the airport hotel.
Are you safe?*
I looked at Eric's back, ten feet ahead of me, already on his phone.
May you like
*For now,* I typed.
*But I need one more thing from you.*
