Seven

CHARLOTTE’S P.O.V.

Justin didn’t come home that night… or the next, or the one after that.

At first, I told myself I didn’t care and that I was happy that he was gone.

I packed boxes in silence, folded clothes, put them into my suitcases, and sorted through years of our lives together piece by piece, trying to decide what I could take that would have the fewest memories tied to it. 

I wanted to move on and have a fresh start, but every night that he didn't return, I watched the clock.

I couldn’t tell if I was anxious for him to come home or scared that he wouldn’t.

Every time headlights passed outside, my stomach twisted, and every time my phone buzzed, my heart betrayed me. I hated myself for it.

Especially after Tara’s messages kept coming, she was insistent on rubbing it in my face, as if she were proud to be with a man who could lie and cheat so easily. 

I should have blocked her, but instead, I tortured myself.

Unable to sleep in our bed, I found myself wrapped in a blanket on the couch, scrolling through her social media account like some stalker, dissecting every post, picture, and date.

Despite her direct messages to me leaving nothing to the imagination, she had been careful on her page, helping him keep their relationship a secret.

There was nothing directly connected her to Justin. She didn’t show his face, use his name, and didn’t tag him.

But I recognized him anyway. It was impossible for me not to. 

I recognized the expensive watch on his wrist in her photos and his custom suits. There was even one picture of her sitting in his car. His hand was resting possessively on her thigh, but in the cup holder between them were my sunglasses. 

The photo from my birthday made bile rise in my throat. Tara had posted it about an hour before he called me… an hour before I had to hear and see my husband fucking her. 

Tara was smiling at the camera with a milkshake in her hand and the caption:

‘Pregnancy cravings! Good thing my man is so good to me. He always drops everything as soon as I call. Luckiest woman ever.❤️’

Just like with all the others, I took a screenshot before scrolling further.

Photo after photo, I felt my heart break even more.

There was a beach trip from six months ago when he had told me he was at a conference in New York. Pictures of flowers on her dining room table, identical to the ones Justin used to send me, but that he hadn’t for a while.

There was even a picture of their hands together, fingers intertwined, with a caption about going to her favorite restaurant from nearly a year ago.

A year ago!!! 

My chest tightened painfully, and my tears turned to ones filled with anger and humiliation instead of the hurt and shame I had been wallowing in. 

All this time, I had thought we were happy, but he’d had a second life behind my back.

Another notification popped onto my screen, and I knew it would be her before I even opened it. 

‘Don’t wait up. He used up all of his energy.’ 

As I read and reread the message, an image came in of Justin’s back. He was shirtless in bed with his arm slung over her bare stomach, with our wedding ring still on his finger.

I locked my phone immediately and threw it to the other side of the couch, as if it were on fire.

“Stop looking, Charlotte,” I whispered to myself, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

But twenty minutes later, I was crawling across the couch and picking it up again.

Pathetic.

I was absolutely pathetic and obsessive. I knew anything I saw would just hurt me, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. 

It was like I wanted to feel the pain. Maybe if it hurt enough, I would stop thinking about him.

I just had to make it through one more day. Then the divorce papers would be served tomorrow... on our fifth wedding anniversary.

Unable to stand anymore sulking, I went back upstairs and continued packing until the sun had come up.

As I zipped the last suitcase shut, I looked around the massive bedroom that had once felt like a fairytale.

Now it just felt cold and empty.

A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door, making me jump, before Lydia poked her head inside. “Please tell me you’ve eaten something today.” 

“I had coffee,” I said, pointing to the empty cup on the nightstand with my thumb over my shoulder.

“That is not food.”

“It had creamer.”

Lydia stared at me in horror before stepping into the room carrying takeout containers.

“You were one more missed call away from me filing a missing person’s report for you.” She said.

Despite the emptiness I was feeling, I laughed weakly.

“I haven’t been that quiet.” I defended, but she set the boxes down on the dresser and raised her eyebrows at me in disbelief. 

“It’s been days.” She glanced toward the suitcases lining the wall. “But I can see that you’ve been busy. You packed everything already? What can I help with?”

I nodded.

“He hasn’t been home in days. He told me that he got sent on a sudden work trip for some bullshit emergency.” 

“Oh.” She responded, pursing her lips as if she didn’t know what else to say.

“It doesn’t matter. Justin is free to do whatever he wants. I found a furnished apartment downtown, and I'll be gone before he gets back. It’s a small place, but it’s a private building with security in the lobby.” I swallowed hard. “The lease starts tomorrow, and I already paid for the next year upfront.”

Lydia’s expression softened. “You’re really doing this.”

“He got another woman pregnant, Lydia. I don’t really have a choice. This isn’t something we can just go to therapy for.” I said, glaring toward our shared closet. I had debated cleaning out the drawer of designer watches he kept in there so many times this week, but if there were one thing that would make him lose his mind, it would be that. 

“I know.” Her jaw tightened. “And honestly? I’m proud of you. I also kind of hope she gives him the clap or something.”

Another laugh escaped me, but it was quickly cut off as my phone buzzed again on the couch. 

“Speak of the devil. She doesn't stop.” I muttered. 

Lydia’s face darkened instantly, and she rushed for my phone. 

“Oh, absolutely not.” She snapped as she curled her lip in disgust.

“What now?”

Without answering, she handed me the phone, but I was hesitant to take it. I didn’t know how much more I could take. 

There was another photo. 

Justin was sitting across from her at my favorite brunch spot, and he was laughing.

Tara’s manicured hand was resting possessively on the top of his. 

‘I have never seen him this happy before. Time away from you really does him good.’

My vision blurred the longer I stared at my husband’s face. It was the first time she had sent a clear and identifiable picture of him, and seeing that smile… the one he had only ever used with me, somehow hurt even more than her other messages.

Lydia grabbed the phone back immediately, locked it, and tossed it onto the bed. “That little psycho is obsessed with you.”

“She won,” I whispered numbly.

Lydia’s eyes widened. “No, she didn’t.”

“She has him. She has his baby.” I whispered.

“She has a cheating man with commitment issues and mommy problems.” Lydia snorted. “Congratulations to her, I guess.”

“No.” I shook my head, and Lydia stepped toward me, reaching out to grab my hand. “Congratulations to me. She just sent me his face. I can now prove it is him in all the other pictures. I can now prove he was cheating and violated our pre-nup.” 

Lydia smiled widely as she nodded with excitement. “Time to pay up, pretty boy. You deserve every cent you are going to get from him, Charlotte.”

Finally, my smile came naturally. Justin Moretti was going to pay for this.

That night, after Lydia finally left, I wandered through the silent house one last time. I went through the giant living room with the floor-to-ceiling windows, the state-of-the-art kitchen with the large marble island, to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.

Justin had said I had deserved all of it, but it had all just been a lie. I didn’t need any of it. I didn’t want any of it. Not if he came with it. 

I paused at the kitchen island, staring down at Derek’s jacket still hanging over the chair. I hadn’t returned it yet, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to.

My fingers brushed over the dark leather softly before my phone suddenly rang in my other hand.

I almost ignored it, seeing the unknown number and not wanting to deal with Tara any more…

Almost.

But something in my chest twisted painfully, and I knew I had to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Moretti?”

My stomach dropped instantly. I hated hearing that name. As soon as the papers were signed, I would be Ms. Valente again.

“Yes?”

“This is Memorial Hospital.” The nurse sounded breathless and panicked. “Your mother’s condition has suddenly worsened. You need to come immediately.”