“And?”
“And she’d call it a misunderstanding. Again.”
For three weeks, Eliza didn’t speak to me.
I couldn’t argue with that.
For three weeks, Eliza didn’t speak to me.
Then one night, she called.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
There was a long pause.
“When I lost my marriage, I lost everything that made my life feel stable.”
“I think I know why I did it.”
I waited.
“When I lost my marriage, I lost everything that made my life feel stable. My house. My routines. My future.”
She took a breath.
“Then I came to your place every day, and it felt normal.”
I sat down.
That was the first time she’d said anything that sounded honest.
“I think I started treating your life like something I could borrow.”
“Borrow?”
“Maybe steal pieces from.”
That was the first time she’d said anything that sounded honest.
“I wasn’t trying to take Andrew.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to know I could come in even if you weren’t home.”
“But I liked imagining I had what you had.”
“That still hurt me.”
“I know.”
“And the key?” I asked.
There was another pause.
“I wanted to know I could come in even if you weren’t home.”
