Chapter 2He Wore My Robe For Her

I walked out onto the balcony, watching the distant fireworks over the city skyline.

I remembered five years ago—Parker in a white tuxedo, promising forever before a priest. But there are no gods in this city, and there was no loyalty in Parker. One look from Lydia, and I ceased to exist.

When Lydia first moved into 4B, he’d acted outraged. He’d complained to me about how she was "stalking" him, how she wouldn't let the past stay dead. Looking back, it was a masterful performance. He wasn't annoyed; he was setting the stage.

Thirty minutes later, the front door unlocked.

Parker stumbled in, smelling of a perfume that wasn't mine. He was carrying a floral umbrella.

Lydia’s umbrella.

He had that post-coital glow, a lazy, satisfied slump to his shoulders.

“Babe, I am so sorry. Got caught up. Are we still good to go out?”

He stepped toward me, trying to pull me into his arms. The scent of her—heavy, cloying vanilla—hit me like a physical wall. I stepped back, avoiding his touch.

“Are the flowers pretty?” I asked.

He blinked, a practiced, charming smile sliding onto his face. “They’re great. Lydia said you have impeccable taste.”

I looked at him, and the very last spark of affection I held for him flickered out into ash.

“She said that? By what right does she get to comment on my taste?”

Parker realized his mistake, his tone shifting to that "calm down" voice men use when they want to make you sound crazy. “Hey, it was just a compliment. Don’t be petty, Diana. It’s a holiday.”

As he spoke, he carelessly leaned Lydia’s umbrella against the coat rack, right next to my wool trench coat. It felt like a silent, mocking invasion.

“Parker, do you remember the promise you made me three years ago?”

His body stiffened. The smile became a brittle mask. “Of course I do. I said I was done with the past. And I am. Tonight was just... she was lonely, and I felt sorry for her...”

“Sorry enough to go over there with your robe hanging open?”

Parker turned deathly pale. He instinctively clutched the lapels of his robe shut. “Diana, let me explain—”

“Don’t.”

I pointed to the coffee table, where a manila envelope sat. “Sign the papers.”

The color didn't come back to his face. He looked at the divorce decree as if it were a coiled snake.

“Diana, are you seriously doing this? Tonight? On a holiday?”

“I told you, she’s alone. We’re neighbors, we went to school together. What’s the big deal about being a good person?”

“It was a bouquet of flowers! You used to be bigger than this. You’re being so small-minded.”

The more he spoke, the more "disappointed" he sounded, as if I were the one failing him. In the past, this was where I would have softened. I would have wondered if I was being too sensitive.

Now, I just felt a deep, oily sense of disgust.

“Parker,” I interrupted his performance. “The curtains weren't closed all the way. And you aren't a good enough actor to hide what you were doing on the phone.”

His face went slack. The mask shattered, leaving only a panicked, pathetic man underneath. He pulled the robe tighter, trying to hide the marks I knew were on his skin.

“You... you were spying on me?”

The sheer audacity of the deflection made me laugh. I didn't answer. I just turned and went into the bedroom to grab my suitcase.

Parker chased after me, grabbing the handle of my bag. “I’m not letting you leave! I didn't mean that, okay? I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

“Look, nothing happened. We... we just got caught up in the moment, a kiss, that’s it! Nothing more!”

“You know how it is. It’s the history. It’s hard to just turn it off. But you’re the one I love! We’ve been married for five years. Are you really going to throw away our home over a stupid mistake?”

He sounded so sincere. Exactly like he had five years ago. I’d believed him then, thinking he was just confused. But a man who is "confused" for five years is just a man who is a liar.

I shoved his hand off the suitcase, but before I could reach the door, my phone began to scream.

It was my father.

I answered, and my father’s voice came through the line, jagged and unrecognizable with panic.

“Diana! Get to the hospital! Now! Your mother... it’s her heart. They’re taking her into surgery!”