12. A Friend in Maya

Lena’s POV

I stare at the phone for a long time before I pick it up.

It is not my phone anymore. Not really. The old one is gone. The SIM card snapped in half and tossed into a bin like a bad habit I was trying to break. This one is cheap. Temporary. Bought with cash. A private number that feels like a thin shield between me and the life I ran from.

My thumb hovers.

I tell myself I am only calling to let her know I am alive. Nothing more. Nothing that can be traced. Nothing that can pull me back.

The call connects after two rings.

“Hello?”

“Maya,” I say quietly. “It’s me.”

There is a sharp inhale on the other end. Then her voice breaks.

“Oh my God. Lena. Where have you been. I’ve been losing my mind.”

“I’m okay,” I say quickly. “I’m safe. I just needed you to know that.”

“Safe is all I care about right now,” she says. I can hear her pacing. I picture her exactly. Phone pressed to her ear. One hand already reaching for her keys out of habit. “Are you hurt. Did anyone follow you.”

“No,” I say. “No one knows where I am.”

She exhales. Long and shaky. “Good. You did the right thing. Running was the right call.”

Running.

The word makes something twist in my chest. I do not argue with her. I do not correct it. Maybe it was running. Maybe it was survival. Maybe it was both.

“I keep wondering if I overreacted,” I admit. “If I should have stayed longer. Talked more. Tried harder.”

“Lena,” Maya says firmly. “You left before that house swallowed you whole. That matters.”

I close my eyes and lean back against the bed.

The room I am staying in is small. Clean. Anonymous. Nothing like the life I shared with Ethan. And yet, in the quiet, my mind keeps drifting back to him.

“I don’t understand it,” I say softly. “He was always good to me. Loving. Patient. He never raised his voice. Never scared me. And then suddenly he wanted out. Just like that.”

My voice cracks. I hate that it does.

“He looked at me like I was already gone,” I continue. “Like the decision had been made long before he told me. I keep replaying everything, trying to find the moment where I missed something.”

Maya does not answer right away.

That scares me more than if she had.

“I don’t know what changed,” she says carefully. “But what I do know is that people don’t just wake up one day and ask for a divorce unless something shifted inside them. And that is not on you.”

“But it feels like it is,” I whisper. “If he had always been cruel, this would make sense. But he wasn’t. He loved me. I know he did.”

“I believe you,” Maya says. “And that’s what makes it harder. When the ending doesn’t match the beginning.”

A tear slips down my cheek. I swipe it away angrily.

“Can I ask you something,” I say.

“Anything.”

“How is he,” I ask. The words come out before I can stop them.

There it is. The question I have been pretending I did not care about.

Maya hesitates.

It is small. Barely there. But I feel it.

“He’s… fine,” she says. “At least on the surface.”

My stomach tightens. “What does that mean.”

“He’s been going out,” she says lightly. Too lightly. “A lot. Parties. Bars. Always surrounded by people.”

The room feels colder all of a sudden.

“Already,” I say. The word tastes bitter.

“Yeah,” Maya replies. “Every night, pretty much.”

My heart cracks in a quiet way. Not dramatic. Not explosive. Just a slow splintering.

I picture him laughing. Drinking. Forgetting. Moving on like I was something he shrugged off. Like I never mattered the way I thought I did.

“I guess that answers my question,” I say softly.

“Lena,” Maya starts, but I shake my head even though she cannot see me.

“No,” I say. “It’s okay. I asked.”

The truth, even when it hurts, feels better than wondering.

I swallow hard and force myself to breathe.

“Then I really did the right thing,” I say. “If he can move on that fast, then staying would have destroyed me.”

“Yes,” Maya says quickly. “You absolutely did the right thing. Leaving before you had to watch that happen in real time was smart.”

Smart.

I do not feel smart. I feel hollow. Like something precious slipped through my fingers without me noticing.

There is a pause.

“So,” Maya says slowly, “where are you.”

My shoulders tense immediately.

“I’m somewhere quiet,” I say. “By the ocean.”

“That sounds beautiful,” she says. “What town.”

“I’m not telling anyone,” I reply gently. “Not yet.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Ryan’s been asking,” she says casually. Too casually. “He’s worried.”

My pulse spikes.

“Why,” I ask.

“He just wants to make sure you’re okay,” Maya says. “You know how he is.”

I know exactly how Ryan is. Curious. Pushy. Loyal to Ethan in ways he pretends not to be.

“I am okay,” I repeat. “That’s all he needs to know.”

“Lena,” Maya says, and there is something different in her voice now. An edge I am not used to. “You can trust me.”

“I do,” I say. “That’s why I’m calling you. But I need this to stay mine for a bit. I need space where no one can find me.”

She exhales slowly. “Alright. I won’t push.”

Relief loosens something in my chest.

“Thank you.”

We talk a little longer after that. About nothing important. About the weather. About how strange it feels to sleep alone after years of sharing a bed. About how silence can feel both peaceful and cruel.

Before we hang up, Maya says one last thing.

“I know it feels like you lost everything,” she tells me. “But one day you’re going to look back and realize you saved yourself.”

After the call ends, I sit there in the quiet, the phone warm in my hand.

Ethan out partying every night.

The image refuses to leave me.

I curl onto my side and let the ache wash through me. I do not fight it. I do not rush it away. I let it hurt because it deserves to.

I loved him. That does not disappear just because the marriage ended.

But love does not mean chasing someone who already let go.

I remind myself of that as I stare at the ceiling. As the town hums softly outside my window. As the ocean breathes in and out like a living thing.

I am safe.

I am hidden.

And even though my heart feels bruised and confused, a small steady truth settles inside me.

I chose myself.

Even if it hurts.

Even if I do not understand everything yet.

One day, I will.