Chapter 29 Elena
The grocery store was busy for a Saturday afternoon.
I'd spent the night at Caleb's. Woken up in his bed, sunlight streaming through the windows, his arm around me. We'd had coffee on the porch, talked about nothing important, and then I'd gone home to shower and change.
Now it was back to normal life. Groceries and errands, the ordinary rhythm of Saturday.
I grabbed a cart and headed for produce, mentally cataloging what I needed. Caleb was making dinner tomorrow—something with chicken, he'd said—but I wanted to bring wine and maybe a dessert.
I was reaching for bell peppers when I heard it.
A woman's voice, raised and distressed. "I need to go home! Where's my house?"
The produce section went quiet. People turned toward the sound, that uncomfortable awareness of someone else's crisis playing out in public.
I should've kept shopping, minded my business, but something about the voice made my stomach drop. I rounded the corner into the bakery section.
Matt and his dad stood near the bread display with Carol between them. She was pulling away from Bill's grip, agitated, her cardigan askew. Her face was flushed and frightened.
"You're lying!" She was crying now. "You're all lying to me!"
Matt had his hands up, palms out, voice low and steady. "Mom, nobody's lying. We're going home right after we finish shopping, remember?"
"No! I want to go now!"
People were staring. A woman with a toddler backed away slowly, and the store manager hovered by the deli counter, phone in hand, clearly uncertain whether to call someone.
Bill looked exhausted, older than I'd ever seen him. He was trying to guide Carol toward the exit but she kept twisting away, getting more upset.
Matt's jaw was tight, voice still calm but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were shaking slightly. He was barely holding it together.
I moved before I thought about it.
"Carol?" I kept my voice gentle, approaching slowly. "Hi, it's Elena."
She turned toward me, eyes wild and unfocused, but then something shifted.
"Elena? Oh—Elena, dear." The agitation drained out of her like someone had pulled a plug.
Matt and Bill went completely still.
"Hi." I stepped closer, kept my tone easy. "How are you?"
"I'm…" She looked around, confused but calmer now. "I was trying to get home. Matthew's expecting me for dinner and these men…" She gestured vaguely at Bill and Matt. "They won't take me."
My heart tightened. "I'm sure Matthew won't mind if you're a little late."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
She took my hand. Her grip was weak, fingers thin and cold, but she was calm now. The store had gone quiet too. People trying not to stare but absolutely staring. Matt's eyes met mine over his mother's head, and his mouth formed the words: thank you.
Bill cleared his throat gently. "Let's get you to the car then, honey. We don't want to be late."
Carol nodded, letting him guide her toward the exit. I walked with them. Matt fell into step on Carol's other side, his hand on her elbow so careful it made my chest ache.
The store manager stepped aside, customers parted, and we made our way through the automatic doors into the cold afternoon air. Bill's car was parked near the entrance. He unlocked it and helped Carol into the passenger seat. She went easily now, humming something under her breath.
"I'll get her settled at home," Bill said quietly. "Matt, you coming?"
"Right behind you."
Bill nodded, climbed into the driver's seat. Before he could close the door, Carol leaned toward the open window.
She was looking at me and Matt standing together on the sidewalk. A smile spread across her face… bright, delighted, almost mischievous.
"I know what you two are up to."
Matt went rigid. "Mom—"
"It's okay." She reached through the window, patted my hand. "I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me."
Everything narrowed to her smiling face.
She thought we were together. Sneaking around, young and in love.
"You're so good for him, Elena." Her eyes were warm, certain. "He's lucky to have you."
I didn’t know what to do, what to think.
She squeezed my hand. "You'll make such beautiful babies."
My hand went limp in hers.
Bill's voice was gentle. "Carol, we should get going."
"All right, all right." She waved at us as Bill started the engine, still smiling. "See you kids later."
The car pulled away.
Matt and I stood there while the world moved around us. Cars on the main road, groceries being loaded, people living their ordinary Saturday. Everything looked normal. Everything felt impossible.
"I'm sorry." Matt's voice came out rough. "She gets confused. She thinks we're… she doesn't understand we're not—"
"I know."
A cart rattled past, pushed by a teenager in a store vest. We both stood there, not knowing what else to say.
"Thank you," he finally said. "For helping. You didn't have to do that."
I looked at him, at the shadows under his eyes, and the way he held himself too carefully, like one wrong move would shatter something. The exhaustion written into every line of his face.
"How bad is it?"
He exhaled slowly. "Bad. It’s getting worse every week." His hand went to his hair, gripping for a second before dropping. "Most days she doesn't know who I am. Yesterday she thought Dad was a burglar. Called 911 on him."
"Oh, Matt..."
"We're looking at memory care facilities. Can't keep her at home much longer. Dad can't handle it alone and I'm…" He stopped. "It's time."
His voice was steady, but he’d balled his hands into fists to stop them from trembling. I didn't know what to say. Nothing felt adequate.
"You look good," he said quietly. "Happy."
"I am."
"With Caleb?"
"Yeah."
He nodded, the motion both gentle and heavy. "Good. That's… that's really good."
A gust of wind cut through the parking lot and I pulled my jacket tighter.
"I should go," Matt said. "Dad'll need help getting her settled."
"Yeah. Of course."
"Thanks again. Really."
"Don’t thank me, Matt. Your mom was always good to me. Just…" I hesitated, trying to pick the right words and failing miserably. "Take care."
"You too."
He walked to his truck, got in, and sat there for a moment with his hands on the wheel. Then he started the engine and pulled away. I watched his taillights disappear into traffic.
Then I walked to my truck, climbed in, closed the door.
My hands were shaking.
I gripped the steering wheel hard as I stared out at the parking lot. People coming and going, life happening all around with an ever moving river.
And then it hit me, the weight of it all, like a wave I didn't see coming.
I started crying, full sobs that tore out of my chest. I doubled over, gasping for air, everything in my hurting.
Matt was watching his mother disappear. Piece by piece, day by day. She didn't know who he was anymore. She thought strangers were breaking into her house. She thought he and I were still together, still planning a future.
You'll make such beautiful babies.
We'd talked about it, had started trying. We had names picked out—Sophie for a girl, James for a boy. We'd even debated nursery colors, talked about which room would be the baby's. The future had been right there, close enough to touch.
That future didn't exist anymore.
If he hadn't cheated, if we'd stayed married, if none of it had broken…
I'd be the one standing beside him at the grocery store, calming his mother down. I'd be the one he came home to after bad days. I'd be there when they toured care facilities, when they made the impossible decision to move her. I'd hold him when he cried.
We'd have had the kids by now. Sophie would be two, James would be a baby. Carol would've known her grandchildren before she forgot everything else.
But that timeline was gone.
He had cheated, we weren't together… and I was with Caleb now. I was happy with Caleb. I…
I loved Caleb.
But I was still grieving everything Matt and I had lost. The marriage, the future, the children who would never exist. The version of us that had died when he’d made the choice to sleep with Angela.
I should hate him for it, but when I turned inward to search for it, all my anger was spent. There was no hatred in me… just something brittle and hollow. I thought of Matt sitting alone at night, his mother forgetting his name, his father aging under the weight of it all.
If we were still married, he wouldn't be alone.
But we weren't.
And he was.
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and cried until I couldn't breathe, until my throat was raw and my face was soaked and I had nothing left.
Ten minutes passed, maybe fifteen. Finally, I sat up and wiped my face with my sleeve. My eyes were swollen, mascara probably everywhere. I didn't care.
I pulled out my phone with shaking hands.
Typed: Can you come get me? I'm at the grocery store parking lot.
Sent it to Caleb.
His response came immediately: On my way. Are you okay?
I stared at the words, started to type No, but deleted it.
Typed: I will be.
Sent.
I sat there in silence, watching people move through a lazy, normal Saturday. The world kept turning and turning, oblivious to it all, and it would keep doing so.
Caleb's truck turned into the lot twelve minutes later. He pulled up beside me, got out, and came to my door. When I opened it, he took one look at my face and didn't ask questions. He just opened his arms.
I fell into them and held on.