Chapter 2 - THE KISS HE COULDN’T EXPLAIN
“You did get it right, didn’t you?”
Vanessa’s question hung between them.
Ethan stared at the plastic cup in his hand.
For several seconds, he didn’t answer.
That silence hurt more than I expected.
Because there were easy answers.
Of course I did.
I love my wife.
Claire is the best thing that ever happened to me.
Instead, Ethan looked toward the airplane window and said quietly, “Marriage is complicated.”
Vanessa smiled.
Not a happy smile.
A hopeful one.
My stomach turned.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means Claire and I have been... disconnected lately.”
I almost laughed.
Disconnected.
That was the word men used when they didn’t want to say their wives had gotten tired of carrying the relationship.
I had spent two years asking Ethan to go to counseling.
He was too busy.
I had asked for weekends without Vanessa emergencies.
I was controlling.
I had asked why he told Vanessa things about our marriage before telling me.
I was insecure.
Now, sitting three rows behind him, I finally understood.
Ethan had not been confused about my boundaries.
He simply preferred boundaries that required nothing from him.
Vanessa touched his wrist.
“You deserve to be happy too.”
“I am happy.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
He finally looked at her.
And that was when she leaned forward.
There was enough time for Ethan to move.
Enough time to turn his head.
Enough time to say no.
He didn’t.
Vanessa kissed him.
For one terrible second, he froze.
Then his hand moved to her arm.
And he kissed her back.
It lasted maybe three seconds.
Four at most.
Long enough.
When Vanessa pulled away, her lipstick had smeared across the corner of his mouth.
Ethan looked stunned.
“Vanessa.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why would you do that?”
She stared at him with wet eyes.
“Because I’ve spent fifteen years pretending I don’t love you.”
The businessman beside me stopped typing.
I realized my hand had crushed the paper cup I was holding.
I set it down carefully.
No tears.
Not yet.
I pulled the little pen from my purse, unfolded a cocktail napkin, and wrote nine words.
Your wife is sitting three rows behind you. She saw everything.
When the flight attendant passed, I quietly handed it to her.
“Would you give this to the man in 14C?”
She glanced at my face, then at the napkin.
Something in my expression stopped her from asking questions.
“Of course.”
Thirty seconds later, my husband discovered his marriage had an audience.
After our eyes met, Ethan unbuckled his seat belt.
I watched him stand.
The flight attendant immediately blocked the aisle.
“Sir, the seat belt sign is on.”
“My wife is back there.”
“I understand, but you need to sit down.”
“Claire.”
Every head between us seemed to turn.
I looked out the window.
“Claire, please.”
I put my headphones on.
The businessman beside me looked from Ethan to me and quietly closed his laptop.
“You want the aisle?” he whispered.
I almost smiled.
“No. Thank you.”
Ethan remained standing until the flight attendant’s voice hardened.
“Sir. Sit down.”
He did.
Vanessa leaned toward him.
I couldn’t hear everything she said, but I caught enough.
“I didn’t know.”
Ethan’s head snapped toward her.
“You knew she was in Seattle.”
“I didn’t know she was on this flight.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Vanessa went silent.
Interesting.
For the remaining forty-three minutes, Ethan turned around at least twelve times.
I never looked back.
My phone connected the instant we landed.
His messages arrived before the wheels had stopped rolling.
CLAIRE PLEASE WAIT.
PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN.
THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.
I LOVE YOU.
PLEASE DON’T LEAVE THE AIRPORT.
Then Vanessa texted.
Claire, I am so sorry. It was completely my fault.
I read that one twice.
Not because I believed her.
Because of the wording.
Completely my fault.
A gift.
She was already trying to control the narrative.
When the seat belt light went off, Ethan was in the aisle before anyone else.
I stayed seated.
“Claire.”
People pushed around him.
He looked pale.
I removed my headphones.
“Move.”
His face tightened.
“Can we please talk?”
“Not in an airplane aisle.”
“Then outside.”
“I said move.”
“Claire, I swear to God, I didn’t know she was going to kiss me.”
“You kissed her back.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
That was the first honest answer he’d given me all day.
Vanessa stood several feet behind him clutching her purse.
Her mascara was smudged.
“Claire.”
I looked at her.
She flinched.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You should be.”
“I had too much wine.”
“Wine doesn’t create feelings, Vanessa. It lowers the volume on the lies hiding them.”
Her face went white.
Ethan whispered my name again.
I walked past him.
He followed me through the terminal.
“Claire, please. Just five minutes.”
“You had fifteen years to figure out what your relationship with her was.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I made a mistake.”
I stopped.
Hundreds of travelers moved around us.
“You keep calling it a mistake because that sounds accidental.”
His eyes dropped.
“I should have pushed her away.”
“Yes.”
“I should have.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
That one word nearly broke me.
I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
Ethan saw the leather gift bag attached to the handle.
“What’s that?”
I looked down.
The watch.
Eight years, still choosing you.
I opened the bag, removed the small box, and handed it to him.
His face changed the moment he opened it.
“Claire.”
“Our anniversary gift.”
He turned the watch over.
I watched him read the engraving.
His eyes filled.
“Eight years, still choosing you,” he whispered.
“I bought it this morning.”
He looked destroyed.
“I came home early to surprise you.”
“Claire, please.”
“I was happy, Ethan.”
My voice finally trembled.
“That’s the part I can’t forgive tonight. I was so stupidly happy.”
“You weren’t stupid.”
“I got the job.”
His expression shifted.
“What?”
“The Seattle interview. They offered me West Coast Director.”
For one heartbeat, pride crossed his face.
Then he understood.
I had been flying home to celebrate with him.
“Claire, congratulations.”
“Don’t.”
He closed his mouth.
Vanessa had reached us now.
She looked between us.
“You got the Seattle job?”
I turned toward her.
There was something strange in her voice.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“How did you know there was a Seattle job?”
Silence.
Ethan slowly looked at Vanessa.
I had never told her.
I had barely told Ethan.
Vanessa blinked rapidly.
“You must have mentioned it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Maybe Ethan did.”
I turned to my husband.
His expression gave me the answer.
He had.
Of course he had.
My career news.
My private interview.
My fears.
Shared with Vanessa.
Again.
“I told her you were interviewing,” he admitted.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Before or after I asked you not to tell anyone?”
His shoulders dropped.
“Claire.”
I nodded.
There it was.
The kiss was not the first betrayal.
It was simply the first one I couldn’t be convinced I had imagined.
I pulled out my phone.
“What are you doing?” Ethan asked.
“Calling a car.”
“I parked here. I’ll drive you home.”
“I’m not going home with you.”
His face collapsed.
“Where are you going?”
“The company put me in temporary housing near Santa Monica while I decide whether to accept.”
“Whether?”
I met his eyes.
“I had planned to turn it down if you asked me to.”
He stared at me.
“But you never even asked what I wanted,” I continued. “You just complained that Seattle had already taken too much of my time.”
“I didn’t know they offered it.”
“You didn’t know a lot of things about me.”
The car notification appeared.
Three minutes away.
Ethan stepped closer.
“Please don’t decide our whole marriage tonight.”
“I’m not.”
Hope flashed across his face.
I shook my head.
“You’ve been deciding it for years.”
Outside the glass terminal doors, my car pulled to the curb.
I walked toward it.
Ethan didn’t follow this time.
But Vanessa did one last thing.
She touched his arm.
A familiar gesture.
Automatic.
Possessive.
Ethan looked down at her hand.
Then slowly removed it.
For the first time in fifteen years, Vanessa Parker looked afraid.
May you like
And for the first time in eight years, I left my husband behind without wondering whether I was being unreasonable.
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