“God, no. Can you imagine being tied to her family forever? Her dad is an arrogant old goat. If it wasn’t for the money, I wouldn’t even say hello to him.”
I stood there holding the knife, my whole body just burning. I wanted to scream or throw something or walk out and never come back. But instead, I just kept cutting the pie slice by slice, perfect triangles. I don’t even remember thinking about it. I just did it.
I walked back into the dining room, plates in hand, and smiled. I set the pie down, served each of them a slice, and sat in my chair. Fabian put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. I didn’t flinch. I just smiled and asked Lydia about her garden.
The rest of the evening is a blur. I remember laughing at their jokes, helping clean up, and kissing Fabian in the car on the way home. I remember grabbing my phone from the table before we left. I remember opening the door to our apartment—the apartment my parents were paying for—and watching him kick off his shoes and flop on the couch like everything was normal.
Because for him, it was.
I didn’t confront him that night or the next day or the day after that. I just watched him. Watched how he’d check my dad’s social media accounts when he thought I wasn’t looking. Noticed how he’d suggest we visit my parents when our fridge was getting empty. Saw how he’d mention his student loans when my dad was around.
A week passed. I barely slept. I kept replaying the recording, thinking maybe I’d misheard or misunderstood. But no. His words were crystal clear.
“She’s convenient.”
“Her dad’s money keeps me comfortable.”
“I’ll find someone worth showing off.”
I stopped eating much, stopped talking unless I needed to. I’d lock myself in the bathroom and just sit on the floor trying to figure out what to do. Fabian noticed something was off, but seemed annoyed rather than concerned. He kept asking if I was on my period or just being dramatic.
It was mom who finally broke through. She stopped by unexpectedly one afternoon when Fabian was out with friends, took one look at me, and sat me down at the kitchen table.
“What’s going on with you and Fabian? Is he behaving normally?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.
I wasn’t crying. I was past crying. I just felt empty.
“Do you want to hear it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. Just don’t interrupt, okay?”
I pulled out my phone, opened the voice memo app, and hit play. We sat in silence as Fabian’s voice filled the kitchen.
“She’s convenient. Her dad’s money keeps me comfortable.”
Mom’s face went completely still. By the time the recording reached arrogant old goat, she was trembling. When it ended, she didn’t speak for what felt like forever. Then she stood up, walked to the hallway, and grabbed her coat.
“Don’t let him come back here tonight,” she said.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To your father. Wait here.”
I sat alone in the kitchen after she left and my phone buzzed with a text from Fabian.
“grabbing drinks with the guys. BB back late. Don’t wait up.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I opened my laptop and started making a list.
First update. OMG. Thank you all SM for the supportive comments on my last post. Wasn’t expecting this to blow up like it did. Some of you asked for updates. So, here’s what happened after my parents showed up.
I’ve never seen my dad that quiet before. He’s usually the type to fill silences, telling dad jokes, asking questions, making small talk. But when he walked through my door that night, he just nodded at me. Mom was right behind him, her hand on his back like she was studying him. Mom told him I had something he needed to hear.
I felt my stomach twist as I pulled out my phone again. Part of me wanted to chickenen out, to say never mind and pretend everything was fine, because playing that recording meant things would change forever. But I hit play anyway.
Watching my dad listen to Fabian’s voice was… I don’t even know how to describe it. At first, his face didn’t change at all. He just stared at my phone on the table. Listening to Fabian laugh about how I was convenient. When Fabian called him an arrogant old goat, I saw something flicker in his eyes.
Dad didn’t explode like I thought he might. He just sat there for a long moment after the recording ended. Then he reached across the table and took my hand.
He asked if I was okay. Not what I was going to do or how this happened, but if I was okay. I wasn’t expecting that question to age. I’d been so focused on the betrayal and what to do next that I hadn’t really thought about whether I was okay.
And the answer was no, I wasn’t.
I started crying then, really crying for the first time since I’d heard the recording. Dad squeezed my hand and just let me cry. Mom made tea, which is her solution to everything.
When I finally calmed down, Dad asked when the recording was from. I told him it had been a week. He nodded like that made sense. Then he asked where Fabian was now. I checked my phone. Three more texts from him.
“Getting another round.”
“Mike says hi.”
“Don’t wait up, babe.”
So normal. So oblivious.
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