Her voice filtered through the speakers, soft and cruel, as her voiceover took charge of the room.
“You know it is, Lila. People take videos and photos of the things they’re most afraid to lose. Cole took this one.
I sat frozen, my hands curled into fists in my lap.
The camera panned, and there he was. Cole.
Sitting next to her. Whispering into her neck with a smirk that made my skin crawl.
“She’ll never see this coming,” he said.
“Are you recording this, honey?” Vanessa asked.
“I am, it’s important to me.”
The video transitioned to another clip. Vanessa, now sprawled across our bed and talking on her cellphone, the duvet twisted around her like she belonged there.
“She thinks she’s so clever,” Vanessa said, twirling a piece of hair.
and drinking her wine.”
I couldn’t understand what Vanessa was doing and why Cole was recording her being so… cruel. But he seemed to enjoy that.
I shut the laptop hard.
“Lila, I…” Cole said, standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.
“Get out,” I said, my voice low and certain.
“It’s Thanksgiving, my darling,” he said, like the date would excuse his actions.
“I don’t care what day it is!” I shouted.
“Where am I supposed to go?” he asked.
“That’s not my problem, Cole,” I said.
“You made your choice. Now live with it. Go to her.
Go celebrate your baby with her.”
He didn’t speak again. He just grabbed his keys and walked out. I didn’t follow.
I didn’t watch him leave.
I just sat in the silence and listened to myself breathe.
Later, I made some tea and sat in the same chair where Vanessa had filmed herself. I stared at nothing for a long time. My stomach twisted, but I didn’t cry.
I planned.
Over the next week, I packed Cole’s things into boxes and left them in the garage.
I made appointments with a lawyer, a therapist, and my doctor. I blocked Vanessa on everything.Continue reading…
