I thought I knew every part of the life Ethan and I had built together after seven years of marriage. It took one ordinary accident in our bedroom to make me wonder how much of it I had never really known.
Ethan and I had been married for seven quiet, easy years. The kind of relationship so peaceful that people ask how we do it.
My husband was the type of man who brought me coffee in bed every Sunday. He never forgot a birthday, an anniversary, the day I got my promotion, or any other important milestone.
Ethan even left cute little handwritten love notes stuck to the bathroom mirror.
“You looked beautiful in your sleep.”
“Don’t forget lunch.”
“Proud of you, always.”
He never forgot a birthday.
Our friends had a running joke that we were the couple who ruined dating for everyone else. Marion, my boss, used to raise her wine glass at office parties and say,
“If Clarissa and Ethan ever split, I’m done believing in love.”
I laughed every time. I believed her, too, because we’d built a beautiful, comfortable life together. He was my rock and my confidant.
I believed her, too.
***
That evening, we were getting ready for one of Marion’s formal dinner parties at her house. She hosted twice a year, and the invitations were the kind you didn’t miss.
I was standing at the vanity, fastening my second gold earring, when Ethan called up the stairs.
“You almost ready, Clar? I’m going to pull the car out!”
She hosted twice a year.
“Two minutes,” I called back.
“That’s what you said 10 minutes ago!”
“That’s because I meant it 10 minutes ago!”
I heard him laugh, then the click of the front door.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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