Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN ON THE LEASE
Her name was Melissa Ward.
I had seen it before.
Not on a lease.
On my husband’s phone.
He had called her a client.
Once, when I asked why a client was texting him after midnight, he told me she worked in a different time zone.
I believed him.
Or I chose to.
There is a difference.
My sister searched public social media while we sat in the shelter’s private family room.
Melissa’s profile was mostly locked.
But one photograph was public.
A restaurant table.
Two glasses of wine.
My husband’s watch visible beside her plate.
The date was six weeks before my son was born.
The caption read, Soon.
I felt physically sick.
My sister closed the page.
“You don’t have to look at this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I keep wondering if I imagined everything.”
She reached across the table.
“You didn’t.”
The affair was not the worst thing he had done.
It wasn’t even close.
But it explained something that had confused me for months.
Why he became angrier as my due date approached.
Why every baby purchase irritated him.
Why he accused me of trapping him when the pregnancy had been planned.
Why his mother suddenly began talking about how difficult divorce could be for men.
They had known.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
That evening, an unknown number called.
I didn’t answer.
A voicemail appeared.
It was Melissa.
Her voice was shaking.
“I think we need to talk.”
My sister wanted me to send everything to the attorney first.
The shelter advocate agreed.
So I did not call back.
Instead, I saved the voicemail.
Ten minutes later, Melissa texted.
I didn’t know about the baby until last month.
Another message followed.
He told me you were already separated.
Then another.
His mother told me the same thing.
I stared at that sentence.
His mother.
The woman who had taken my car keys while her son dragged me across the hallway had also apparently been helping him construct another life.
I sent one reply.
Please communicate through my attorney.
I didn’t have an attorney yet.
May you like
But the shelter advocate had already given me three names.
By morning, I did.
