I was on a run with my next-door neighbor, Jessica, on the trails by our house. I’d gotten home from Daniel’s a few hours earlier. My friend Jessica
was forty-five and statuesque. She was an OB-GYN at Royaume Northwestern and married to a lawyer named Marcus.
She hated him.
“How can you tell when it’s time to put salt in the water softener?” I asked.
“My hair tells me,” she said flatly. Jessica was always a little crabby. “What?”
“When my hair stops feeling soft, I know the thing’s out of salt. Why?” “I have to do it now that Neil’s gone.”
“I’ll come over and show you. I’m the one who does it at my house. Heaven forbid Marcus lift a finger.” She checked her watch. “So where were you?” she asked. “You missed bunco at Gabby’s last night.”
“I know,” I said. “I was out of town.”
She looked straight ahead. “If you’re getting work done, I want to know where.”
“What?”
“New York? L.A.? You’re glowing. Was it that new light therapy? A peel? Don’t be selfish, we share this information.”
“I didn’t get work done.”
She looked over at me and studied the side of my face. “Okay. Then where were you?”
I went quiet for a second. Mostly because her legs were longer than mine, and I had to run harder to keep up and I couldn’t talk through it like she could. But also because I needed to gather my thoughts.
I’d called Jessica because between her and Gabby, she was the one who’d be the most receptive to what I was doing with Daniel. And I was going to have to tell them eventually.
My neighbors saw everything.
Everything.
They watched their security cameras from their phones at work like it was their favorite channel.
If I came home late—or not at all—it was only a matter of time until they noticed. And I’d rather get ahead of it. Especially because I was pretty sure this Daniel thing was going to keep being a thing. Not a serious thing. Not a forever thing. But definitely a frequent thing, at least for now.
I liked him. He was fun. And the s*x had been even better this time, if that was possible.
I didn’t stay for breakfast.
There was only one diner in town, and I didn’t want to advertise the whole “Hey! I woke up here! With him! We had s*x!” thing that would be very obvious if we’d shown up together. We weren’t dating—this was a fling. We didn’t need to let everyone know about it.
“I was at a guy’s house last night,” I said finally.
Jessica stopped running. “Well?” she said, not looking in the least bit surprised. “Who is he?”
I put my hands on my hips, catching my breath. “I met him a week ago.
I’ve seen him twice. I’m going to keep seeing him, I think.”
“Okay.” She looked at her heart rate on her Fitbit. “And where’d you meet?”
I pulled out my water bottle and took a drink. “I met him after the funeral last week, driving through his town.”
“Have you told Gabby?”
I shook my head. “No. Not yet. You can tell her if you want. It’s not really a big deal. I just figured I should tell you guys before you start to notice me not coming home at night.”
“Does Neil know?”
“Nope,” I said, making a popping noise on the P.
“Good,” she said dryly. “Get all your rage s*x out of your system and then you two can get back together with an even score.”
My smile fell. “Jessica, I’m not getting back with him. Ever.” “Uh-huh,” she said dismissively, stretching her hamstring.
“Jessica…”
I gave myself a long moment.
“Do you know what he used to do?” I asked, looking over at her. “He used to tell me I smelled bad.”
She wrinkled her forehead at me. “What?”
“Right before we’d walk into a party or a restaurant or something he’d lean in and go, ‘Did you take a shower today?’ And you know me. I’m compulsively clean. I’d be half an hour out of a bubble bath, and he’d wrinkle his nose and tell me my deodorant wasn’t working. I’d go to kiss him, and he’d turn his face and ask me if I’d had onions for dessert.”
“You don’t smell,” she said. “I would tell you.”
“Yeah, well, I was so freaked about it, I had Bri give me a full physical to see if something was wrong. Came back with nothing. I went to the dentist to see if I had an issue with my mouth, same thing, nothing.
“He wouldn’t touch me or kiss me. I was taking three, four showers a day at the end, brushing my teeth constantly. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And you know what my therapist said? She said it’s a form of abuse. That he was purposely lowering my self-esteem.”
Someone on a bike chimed their bell, and we stepped onto the grass shoulder. We waited for them to whiz past us before I continued.
I rubbed my forehead. “It’s so much to unpack, Jessica. I feel like I’ve toppled down a therapy rabbit hole over the last six months.
“It was good in the beginning. He was nice. We got serious, bought the house. He was kind of cranky sometimes, but it wasn’t bad. Then he started making these little comments about how I looked. Didn’t that used to fit better? Why do you look so tired? Joking that if he’d known how much I was going to let myself go once we were living together, he would have never moved in with me—”
“Let yourself go?” She sounded annoyed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without lipstick.”
“Yeah, well, it just kept getting worse. After a while he wouldn’t even talk to me in the morning until I had my face on. I’d wake up and he’d lean in and sniff and shake his head and then he’d be irritated all day like I’d picked a fight with him. I started getting up before he did to get ready. Six
a.m. and I’m showered and in full makeup. And if I didn’t do it and he made some comment I’d find myself apologizing, like his reaction was completely reasonable. He was always in these bad moods. I never knew which Neil I was going to get. One day he’s cooking me a nice dinner, my favorite bottle of wine, and the next he’s mad at me for God knows what because he won’t even speak to me. It was like he liked me on eggshells. Like as long as I was running after him, begging him to tell me what was wrong, what I could do better, he was happy.
“I could never relax, I started getting depressed, I had anxiety all the time. I was miserable and I felt totally trapped while at the same time feeling grateful that he was with me, because who else would want me?”
She shook her head. “Ali, I had no idea.”
I scoffed. “I had no idea either. It started so gradually, I didn’t even notice it was happening until it was so bad it was my whole life. It wasn’t until I had a therapist breaking it down for me that I even realized what he was doing. It was like I’d been brainwashed into thinking this was normal.” Two joggers passed us, and we went quiet until they were out of earshot.
I let out a long breath. “I almost died of relief when he had that affair, because now I didn’t need an excuse to leave him. ‘Neil cheated, so I Ieft. He’s the bad guy, I’m out.’ Cut-and-dry. Only it’s not, because now he’s playing the whole remorseful ex thing and everyone feels sorry for him. And I don’t think he even expected me to break up with him. I think he actually thought I was going to stick around and keep what he did quiet like I always did because I’d be so embarrassed that I was disgusting enough to drive him into the arms of another woman.”
Her face was hard. “Who else knows?” she asked. “Bri?”
I shrugged. “I told her after, when I was starting to understand it myself. I mean, she never liked him. But he never did it in front of anyone, and it’s sort of hard to explain. Can you imagine me trying to tell you guys this? Convince you that Neil was mean to me? Everyone’s favorite guy, Neil? Complain about him being a good boyfriend and letting me know that my breath smells bad? You’d probably be more inclined to think that he was trying to help me out than to believe that he was being purposely cruel. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you didn’t believe me now—”
“I believe you,” she said flatly. I blinked at her.
“Ali, men are two things. Disappointing and consistent. I believe you.”
I don’t know what it was. Saying it out loud to someone I’d hidden it from for so long. The tiny victory of claiming one of our mutual friends to my side, or just having someone else know it and believe it—but my chin started to quiver.
“I should have known, right?” I whispered. “I know what abuse looks like. But I just thought it was different, you know? Someone hitting you, calling you names, yelling. I didn’t know it was like this.” I wiped under my eyes with the side of my hand. “Honestly, he did me a favor with that woman. I should send her an Edible Arrangement.”
“You should. Use his credit card.” I laughed weakly.
She gave me a moment to compose myself. Then we turned and kept walking along the tree-lined trail.
“So you’re seeing someone,” she said, circling back to the beginning. “Yeah.” I sniffed. “It’s not serious.”
“Just do me a favor with your new boy toy. Be safe. Bring your own condoms, watch him put it on, and make sure it’s still on when you’re done.”
I glanced at her. “Why would it not be on?” “Because they take it off.”
I pulled my face back. “Like, on purpose?”
She scoffed. “Ali, never underestimate what a man will do for five percent better sensation. My days are filled with unplanned pregnancies and STDs—from husbands. Men are shit. It’s why I stay with Marcus. He’s too busy to screw anyone else, let alone me,” she mumbled.
I wrinkled my forehead at the trail. “That’s…sad.”
“The devil you know,” she said dryly. “Oh, which reminds me. You’re not going to like this.”
I glanced over at her. “What?” “Marcus’s birthday next weekend?” “Yeah?”
“He invited Neil.”
I stopped walking. “Why?”
“He said it’s his birthday and Neil is his friend, and he wants him there.
Believe me, I tried to talk him out of it.” I scoffed. “Well, guess I’m not going.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I don’t wanna go either. Screw ’em, they can make it a boys’ trip.”
I looked at her gratefully.
“We should just find a day spa or something and go do that. A bed-and- breakfast. Gabby will go where we do. She always does.”
I smiled. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Don’t thank me. God, what a dick.”
She squinted at the houses ahead of her and stopped walking. “Why are the police in your driveway?”
I froze. We were a few houses down from mine. She was right, there was a cop car in front of my garage.
They were there with Neil.
“What’s going on?” Jessica asked as we approached the two men.
Neil turned and gave me the practiced look of contrition he gave the families of his patients when they didn’t make it out of his operating room. “Ali, let’s go have a private conversation.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms. “If you wanted your stuff, you should have just texted me.”
“I’m moving back in.”
The words hit me like a freight train.
“What?”
“I have a legal right to be here. I’m on the deed, and I’m a resident of the property.”
“You moved out!”
“We had a disagreement,” he said to the officer, not to me. “I stayed with my son for a few weeks. I continue to get my mail here, and the utilities are under my name. She doesn’t have a restraining order.” He was handing him documents. “We co-own the property. I live here.”
I stared slack-jawed between them. The officer thumbed through the paperwork. Then he looked up at me. “If he’s a legal resident of the property, I can’t ask him to leave.”
“You’re kidding me…” I breathed.
Jessica crossed her arms. “Neil, you can’t be serious.”
“Jessica, this is my house, and Alexis is the woman I love. I’m not walking away from either of them.”
“Don’t you dare pretend this is about me,” I spat, feeling my face grow hot. “You’re not living here.”
He looked back at the officer. “I’m going inside now. Is there anything else you need from me?”
He shook his head. “No. Have a good night.”
Neil turned and walked into the garage. I’d changed the locks, but I’d left the garage code the same so he could get his stuff. I didn’t lock the inside door, since I was just on a short jog, so Neil walked right into the living room.
Jessica looked at me in shock.
“Ask Marcus if this is legal,” I said, my voice shaking.
I turned and ran inside after Neil. He was carrying one of the clear plastic containers that I’d packed his stuff in, heading down to the basement where we have our biggest guest room.
“Neil!”
He ignored me.
A mild wave of hysteria bubbled inside me. This wasn’t happening.
I paced in the living room, frantically texting the group thread with Gabby and Jessica. Gabby had just got home and saw the cop car pull away from the house. I told her what happened as Neil came back up for another container.
“Neil! Why are you doing this?”
His face had dropped the friendly, placating look he’d reserved for his audience outside. “This is my house. I told you, I want it. I have a better chance at getting it if I reside here. I have every right to do so. If you don’t like it, move.”
He grabbed another bin and went back down.
I watched him go in shock. My chin quivered, and I ran up the steps to my bedroom and slammed the door.
My phone was pinging in quick succession in our group chat. Gabby, Jessica, Gabby, Jessica. And then almost comically, right in the middle of it, Daniel texted.
Daniel: I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed seeing you again.
Jessica texted. According to Marcus it was all legal. There was nothing I
could do.
I dropped my phone on the bed and put my face into a pillow and screamed.
