Now the truth was coming out.
“She didn’t know you were using my card?”
“No.”
“Interesting.”
I imagined the conversation that must have happened when the payment declined.
The moment when the illusion collapsed.
The moment when the woman realized the man she’d flown to Hawaii with wasn’t nearly as impressive as he’d claimed.
“Lauren,” Ethan said carefully, “I made a mistake.”
I said nothing.
“A huge mistake.”
Still nothing.
“But it doesn’t have to ruin everything.”
Now I did laugh.
“Everything?” I repeated.
“Our marriage.”
“Our marriage ended the moment you booked that plane ticket.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Not fair?” I repeated.
“You froze my card.”
“You stole my money.”
He went quiet again.
In the background, the woman spoke loudly.
“I’m getting a flight home.”
Ethan whispered something back to her.
Then he returned to the phone.
“She’s leaving,” he said.
“Good.”
“She’s blaming me for everything.”
“Well,” I said calmly, “that sounds accurate.”
He exhaled heavily.
“Lauren… can I come home?”
“Not as my husband.”
Silence.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve already called a lawyer.”
His breathing stopped.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Lauren—please—don’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because we can fix this.”
“No,” I said quietly. “We can’t.”
“I swear it meant nothing.”
“You took her to Hawaii.”
“I don’t even like her that much.”
I almost admired the honesty.
“That’s worse,” I said.
Across the ocean, Daniel watched the scene unfold.
He later described it to me in detail.
Ethan was sitting on one of the lobby couches, hunched forward with his phone pressed to his ear.
The woman—her name, apparently, was Vanessa—stood nearby with her arms crossed.
She looked angry.
Really angry.
“What do you mean the card is frozen?” she demanded.
Ethan rubbed his face.
“My wife froze it.”
“Your wife?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa stared at him like she was seeing him clearly for the first time.
“You said you were separated.”
“I am—kind of.”
“You said you had money.”
“I do—normally.”
“So why are we being kicked out of this hotel?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
Because there wasn’t a good answer.
Back in California, I opened my email.
There was already a message from my attorney.
Subject: Divorce Consultation
I had scheduled the meeting the night before.
Everything was moving quickly now.
“Lauren,” Ethan said again, sounding exhausted. “Can you at least help me get home?”
I considered it.
For exactly three seconds.
“No.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re just going to leave me stranded?”
“You weren’t worried about leaving me betrayed.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He had no answer.
