Chapter 8
“I’m trying not to say things I don’t mean anymore.”
Her expression hardened.
“That would have been useful 6 months ago.”
Ethan accepted the hit.
“You’re right.”
Madison folded her arms.
“You told me your marriage was already over.”
“I know.”
“You said you and Norah were basically living separate lives.”
“I said that.”
“You said she only cared about the baby and the family.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly.
Every sentence sounded uglier now.
“I made my marriage sound worse than it was.”
Madison stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because it made what we were doing easier to justify.”
The honesty surprised both of them.
Madison looked toward the window.
“So I was just an excuse.”
“No.”
“Then what was I?”
Ethan took a long breath.
“You made me feel admired.”
Her eyes returned to his.
“At home, I felt like I was always disappointing someone. Norah needed me to show up. Lily needed me. My parents needed things.”
Madison’s voice turned bitter.
“And I didn’t.”
“You needed a version of me I liked being.”
She went quiet.
“With you, I didn’t have to think about whether I was a good husband or father. I could just be successful and wanted.”
Madison leaned back.
“That sounds like love to you?”
“No.”
The answer came quietly.
“No. It sounds like escape.”
Her eyes filled, though she refused to cry.
“Do you still love her?”
Ethan looked at the table.
For weeks, he had avoided saying it because saying it would make everything undeniable.
“Yes.”
Madison swallowed.
“Then what exactly was I supposed to do with all the things you promised me?”
Ethan had no defense.
“I don’t know.”
She laughed once.
Painfully.
“That seems to be your favorite answer.”
He looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Madison shook her head.
“Don’t make me the woman who ruined your marriage by herself.”
“I’m not.”
“You were the married 1.”
“I know.”
“I knew Norah was pregnant.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Madison’s voice dropped.
“I knew enough to walk away earlier, and I didn’t.”
For the first time, neither of them tried to escape responsibility.
Madison reached into her purse and removed the key to Ethan’s Brookline house.
She placed it beside his coffee.
“I thought once she left, we would finally get the life you kept promising.”
Ethan looked at the key.
“I thought so, too.”
“But then there was Lily. Your parents. The hospital. The baby.”
She paused.
“And I realized something I don’t like admitting.”
“What?”
“I wanted the parts of your life that looked good from the outside.”
Ethan said nothing.
“The Mercedes. The dinners. The weekends. The way people treated you when you walked into a room.”
Her voice softened.
“I didn’t picture medication schedules and a teenager who hated me.”
“That’s my life.”
“I know.”
She pushed the key toward him.
“And I don’t think I want it.”
The words should have hurt more.
Instead, Ethan felt strangely calm.
Maybe because for the first time, nobody was pretending.
Madison stood.
“I did care about you.”
“I know.”
“But caring about someone doesn’t erase what we did.”
“No.”
She picked up her coat.
At the door, she stopped.
“I hope you become the man you kept telling me you were.”
Then she left.
Ethan remained at the table alone.
That afternoon, he went to his first therapy session.
He told no 1.
Not Norah.
Not Lily.
Not his parents.
The therapist asked 1 question that stayed with him.
“What did Madison give you that Norah didn’t?”
Ethan answered quickly.
“Admiration.”
The therapist nodded.
“And what did Norah give you?”
This answer took longer.
“Reality.”
“And which 1 did you resent?”
Ethan had no answer.
At the cottage, Norah sat in bed with her Kindle resting beside her and a mug of tea cooling on the nightstand.
Her laptop chimed.
An email.
She opened it.
Family Support Coordinator — Conditional Offer.
The maternal health nonprofit wanted her part-time after maternity leave.
Flexible schedule.
Norah read the email twice.
Then once more.
Her eyes filled.
Not because the job would make her rich.
Because it belonged to her.
She accepted.
That evening, Ethan visited Walter.
He checked the medication schedule himself.
He called Diane afterward to confirm her cardiology appointment.
No one asked him to.
Lily texted later.
You remembered Grandpa’s appointment.
Ethan smiled faintly.
Yeah.
1 minute later:
Good.
That single word felt like progress.
Near midnight, Norah woke with a deep pressure low in her abdomen.
She waited.
Another contraction came.
Then another.
She picked up her iPhone and started the timer.
5 minutes apart.
Stronger than before.
May you like
She looked at the hospital bag beside the door.
This time, she knew Ben was coming.
