Page 68 of Escape Girl

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I’d saved theworst one for last.

The escape room was simple, because in our San Francisco condo, the layout of our master bedroom’s walk-in closet was simple.

We’d had the entire discussion while we stood in the closet. Surrounded by racks of suits and shelves of sweaters, I’d ruined everything.

I could only hope that Bobby’s memory was poorer than mine, because I’d remember every word of the conversation until the end of my life.

“I don’t want that,” I’d hissed, pointing at the cup of tea he offered me.

Bobby had frozen, his eyes on the suitcase on the floor in front of me. “What are you doing?”

He’d been honestly mystified. We’d just had a lovely dinner with my father. I hadn’t spoken much at the restaurant, but they both wrote it off to the fact that I was tired from working twelve-hour days. On the way home, Bobby tried to initiate six different conversations, but I’d given one-word answers, seething in indescribable anger.

The suitcase was nearly filled with suits and heels, so I got on my knees and zipped it so hard I almost tore the thick fabric. “I’m leaving.”

The cup of tea must have been burning his fingers because he wasn’t holding it by the handle and I knew how thin the porcelain was and how it felt when it held boiling water. But he didn’t set it down. “What do you mean? Do you have a last-minute business trip?”

I shook my head furiously. “No. I mean, I’m leaving you. I’m leaving us.”

His beautiful blue eyes grew larger and darker, until his whole face was taken over by twin pools of fear. “What?”

“I can’t live like this anymore,” I babbled, shoving myself unsteadily to my feet.

“Can’t live like what?” he asked, voice rising. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” I screamed it so loud that he dropped the stupid cup and the tea seeped into the floor, spreading in the carpet under the soles of my heels and his sneakers.

“I’m miserable, Bobby.” I said it quieter, but he flinched as though I branded his skin with the words. “I’m miserable and I’m leaving.”

And that was it. I’d shoved past him, pulling the suitcase behind me, and left our home for good.

It took me three tries before I could record without snot clogging my voice. Even when I finally managed to speak clearly, it was in a whisper.

You’ve asked me many times why I left, and I could never answer you with the truth. I’m going to try to do it now.

As clearly as I could, I described all the symptoms of repressed grief I’d been experiencing while we lived together, how it turned my head and heart upside down, and what Dr. Rivera and I were covering in therapy.

Bobby, I left because I was, indeed, miserable. But it was unforgivable for me to throw that phrase at you like it was yourfault. It was not, and I can’t apologize enough for making you feel like you were the reason for my behavior and my actions.

Even though our marriage was brief, I can say with complete honesty that you were the greatest of husbands and remain the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.

I had to pause the recording there to gather myself. I wasn’t happy with my words, exactly, but I’d spoken honestly and explained the best I could. Maybe I’d get more clarity as I moved through therapy. Maybe someday I’d be able to verbally connect the dots in a more sensible way or a more poetic way.

But I couldn’t wait for some future eloquence. Now that I knew what was going on with me, I needed to try to relieve some of the harm I’d caused. I couldn’t try to ease my own pain anymore and not try to ease his. Bobby deserved the truthnow.

What he chose to do next was up to him.

Andie had asked what the answer to the escape room puzzle would be, and I told her that I didn’t have one. “Um.” She raised her eyebrows apologetically. “Then how’s he going to ‘leave’ the rooms? How’s he going to ‘escape’?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? I very much wanted him to escape those particular memories…but I didn’t want him to escape me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Starbucks inBella’s neighborhood was crowded midmorning, but I spotted her the moment she walked in and waved her over. “Thanks so much for coming. Here you go.” Smiling, I handed her a latte and gestured to a chair across from me.

“Thanks.” Bella shrugged off her puffy coat, sat down, and took a sip of the foamy drink. She squinted at me over the lid. “I was surprised to get your call. Surprised you’re still in Chicago. Kinda thought you’d head back to New York after I chickened out of our case. Are you working remotely or something?”

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