Chapter 5: She Should Have Been the One
Nobody moved.
Ethan made a sound that wasn't quite a word.
Marlene kept her arms crossed and her chin level and she did not take it back.
"Mom." Ethan's voice was very quiet.
"What did you just say?"
"You heard me."
"Say it again."
She met his eyes.
"Diane was right for you.
She understood this family.
She understood what you needed.
And then you met—" She stopped.
A small pause.
"And things changed."
"And then I met my wife," Ethan said.
"Say it."
Marlene's jaw shifted.
"And then you met her.
And you changed.
And not for the better."
I was still holding the green coat.
I realized my hands had gone very still.
"Not for the better," I said.
Marlene finally looked at me directly.
"You pulled him away from everything he knew.
His friends.
His routines.
This family.
You moved him into that smaller house and you filled his life with your things and your priorities and—"
"And you decided the solution was to take my clothes and give them to his ex-girlfriend."
"I decided to maintain a relationship with a woman who actually valued this family."
"While lying to my face for six months."
"I didn't think you'd notice."
That landed differently than anything else she had said.
Not because it was crueler.
Because it was so honest.
She didn't think I'd notice.
Not that it was acceptable.
Not that I wouldn't mind.
She genuinely believed she could strip my closet piece by piece and I would never put it together.
Ethan stepped forward.
"I need you to understand what you've done."
"I understand perfectly."
"No.
You don't." His voice was still quiet but there was something underneath it now, something I had never heard from him before.
"You lied to my wife.
You manipulated her into giving you her belongings.
You used them to maintain a secret relationship with a woman from my past.
And when I found out, your first instinct was to text me and tell me not to bring her here." He stopped.
"Do you understand how that looks?"
"I understand that I was protecting you."
"From what?"
Marlene opened her mouth.
Closed it.
"From what, Mom?
From a marriage you didn't choose?
From a wife you didn't pick?" He shook his head.
"I'm forty-one years old."
"You don't understand what Diane—"
"I don't want to hear about Diane." His voice finally cracked slightly on the name.
"I want to hear you tell my wife that you're sorry."
Marlene looked at me.
Her expression was complicated in a way I couldn't fully read.
There was something in it that was almost regret.
But it was surrounded by so much else — pride, certainty, the unshakeable conviction that she had been right — that it never quite made it to the surface.
"I'm sorry you feel hurt," she said.
I put the green coat over my arm.
"That's not an apology," I said.
"But I think we all know that."
I walked out of the room.
Down the hallway.
Through the front door.
I stood on the porch in the cold air and breathed.
Ethan came out two minutes later.
He closed the door behind him.
He didn't say anything.
He just stood next to me.
After a moment he reached over and took my hand.
We stood there like that for a while.
"She's not done," I said quietly.
"You know that."
He squeezed my hand once.
"I know."
"She's going to call Diane.
She's going to tell her what happened.
And then something else is going to happen."
"Probably."
I looked at the coat over my arm.
The green wool.
The small wooden buttons.
The slight wear at the left cuff where I always rested my arm on my desk.
"I want the rest of my things back," I said.
"You'll have them."
"And I want to know how long Diane has been coming to that house."
Ethan was quiet for a moment.
"I'll find out."
We walked to the car.
I put the coat on the back seat.
I looked at it once in the rearview mirror as Ethan pulled out of the driveway.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I didn't recognize it.
I answered anyway.
"Is this Ethan's wife?" The voice was a woman's.
Smooth.
Careful.
"Who is this?"
A small pause.
May you like
"My name is Diane.
I think it's time we talked."
