My Husband Read Bedtime Stories to Our Neighbor, I Divorced Him That Night

"Serena, is Mr. Prescott coming to read to me tonight?"

The woman's voice on speakerphone was soft and airy.

The cake box in my hand tilted, and a smear of frosting pressed against the clear lid.

Adrian stood in the entryway, his tie half-loosened, his expression shifting instantly.

His first instinct wasn't to hang up. It was to look at me.

I set the cake on the dining table. "Sure, come on over."

Two seconds of silence on the other end. I continued, "He's standing right in front of me. Want to ask him yourself?"

Adrian finally reached over and grabbed the phone. I didn't flinch. He killed the call, and the only sound left in the living room was the hum of the refrigerator.

I looked at him. "Who's Vivi?"

Adrian's Adam's apple bobbed. "A neighbor."

"Which neighbor?"

"The one who just moved in downstairs."

"A new neighbor. Why did she ask if you’d go read to her tonight?"

Adrian frowned. "Serena, can you not talk to me like you're interrogating a suspect?"

I laughed. "Occupational hazard. Can't help it."

He set the phone aside and walked over to hug me. I stepped back half a pace, and his hand froze in midair.

"Her name is Vivian Hayes. She was in a car accident a while back. She has nightmares every night."

"So?"

"So I've just been helping out."

"Helping out by reading to her every night?"

Adrian's expression darkened. "It's not every night."

I said nothing. He looked away.

That was my answer.

I picked up the cake knife from the table. Adrian immediately grabbed my hand. "Serena, don't do anything rash."

I looked down at his taut knuckles. "You think I'm going to stab you?"

He froze.

I pulled my hand free and cut the cake.

The first slice went in, and a section of frosting collapsed. The "Happy Birthday" on top split in two. I pushed a piece toward him. "Adrian, happy thirty-sixth birthday."

His face went white. "You came home early to celebrate my birthday?"

I didn't answer.

Adrian lowered his voice. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

"You didn't forget." I looked up at him. "You remembered someone else's nightmares and forgot when my flight was landing."

He opened his mouth, and a long moment passed before he managed, "Serena, I can explain."

I nodded. "Go ahead."

Adrian sat down across from me.

"Vivian's parents are both overseas. She lives alone, and her leg is injured. The elevator broke down one day, so I helped her upstairs. She said she was scared and couldn't sleep."

"So you volunteered?"

"She said my voice reminded her of her brother."

I couldn't help laughing out loud. Adrian's frown deepened.

"What's funny?"

"Funny how good she is at finding herself a brother."

His tone turned heavy. "Serena, I know you're upset, but don't be cruel."

The fork in my hand stopped.

In six years of marriage, Adrian had rarely used that tone with me.

He had always been gentle, polished. Like a glass of warm water.

I once thought warm water was the best thing for daily life. It took today to learn that even warm water can scald.

His phone buzzed again. Adrian instinctively glanced at it. I was faster.

A text popped up on the screen.

Vivian: [Mr. Prescott, my leg hurts. Can you come over?]

I turned the phone toward him. "Should I go?"

A flicker of conflict crossed Adrian's face.

I stood and put the lid back on the cake box. "Go ahead."

He jerked his head up. "Serena, don't be like this."

"Like what?"

"You're obviously angry, but you're pretending you don't care."

I looked at him. "Adrian, I'm giving you a choice right now."

His breath caught.

"Stay. Delete her. Never see her again."

He was silent for a few seconds, and his silence spoke volumes.

I nodded. "Looks like you've made your choice."

Adrian's voice came out rough. "She really needs someone right now."

I pushed the cake into the trash.

The frosting smeared across the black trash bag, pathetic as a bad joke.

Adrian grabbed my wrist. "Serena, I'll be right back."

I looked into his eyes. "If you walk out that door tonight, don't bother coming back."

He went rigid.

The phone rang a third time. Vivian sent a voice message, her words thick with tears. "Mr. Prescott, it hurts so much..."

Adrian let go of me. He said quietly, "I'm just going to check on her."

The second the door closed, I heard myself laugh.

So that's the sound a heart makes when it breaks. Barely a whisper.

Ten minutes later, I opened my laptop and started a new document. The title: Divorce Papers.

I was on the asset division section when the front door lock suddenly clicked.

I thought Adrian had come back, but standing outside was Vivian. She leaned on a crutch, her eyes rimmed red, a book in her hand.

"Serena, Mr. Prescott said you misunderstood."

She bit her lip and held the book out to me. "This is the book he reads to me every day. If you're not comfortable with it, you can listen in too."

I looked at her and didn't take it.

Her voice dropped lower. "Mr. Prescott is really tired, you know. Could you stop pressuring him?"

I smiled. "Ms. Hayes, do you know what I'm best at?"

"I'm best at making people cough up everything they've swallowed, with interest."

Vivian's face changed.

Before I closed the door, she suddenly spoke. "But Mr. Prescott said you'd never actually leave him."

My hand stopped on the doorknob.

Vivian looked at me, each word deliberate. "He said you're too smart. Smart people always weigh the pros and cons."