Chapter 11
The rain begins to fall even before they leave Manchester.
It beats against the windshield with that monotonous insistence that turns the highway into a blur.
Elliot drives with his left hand firmly on the steering wheel and his right resting intermittently on the gearshift, as if he needs something tangible to hold on to.
Seraphina, in the passenger seat, keeps her gaze fixed on her phone screen. The bluish glow illuminates her tense features as she checks, for the third time, the same financial email without managing to make sense of a single line.
“He hasn’t sent me a single message,” Seraphina thinks, clearly recalling the smile Nerissa gave her when she showed her jealousy toward Daphne.
“Put that down, Phina. Please,” Elliot says, not harshly, but with an exhaustion she recognizes immediately.
Seraphina locks the screen and lets the phone fall into her lap.
“I have to finish the audit report by Monday,” she replies.
“You’ve been saying the same thing for over an hour,” he says, without taking his eyes off the road. “Do you really think I don’t notice?”
She doesn’t answer. Outside, the rain-soaked trees parade beneath an overcast sky.
The trip to the country inn was supposed to be a wonderful getaway—two days away from the clinic, the endless meetings, the kids, and the constant calls at all hours.
Two days to try to salvage what’s left of their marriage.
But Seraphina can only feel her heart shrink with every passing mile.
Elliot exhales and drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
“The kids were thrilled at the idea of spending these days with my parents. Ivy had been insisting on sleeping over at Grandma’s, and Oliver had it all planned out to play chess with his grandpa. We have a whole weekend to ourselves… and it feels like I’m taking you to death row.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she murmurs.
“Then talk to me, Phina,” he insists. “Tell me what’s really going on. I haven’t recognized you for months. Is it work? Is it me? What the hell is going on between us?”
Seraphina turns her head toward the fogged-up window and watches the raindrops slide down the glass.
“I’m just tired, Elliot.”
“You’ve been tired for far too long,” Elliot replies, though he can’t hide the pain in his voice. “It seemed like things had gotten better, but for weeks now I’ve felt like I’m watching you slip away right in front of me without understanding why.”
Silence settles between them. Seraphina feels her husband’s words pierce her to the core because they are completely true. Despite believing she was hiding her lie well, Elliot has watched her fall apart without being able to do anything, and that is tearing him apart.
He reaches out and gently brushes her knee. Before, that gesture had been natural, automatic. Now she tenses up. Elliot notices it instantly and slowly withdraws his hand.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, his gaze fixed on the wet road as he drums his fingers again. “Tell me, please. At least so I can fix it.”
Guilt hits Seraphina so hard it almost takes her breath away.
“You haven’t done anything,” she replies. “Nothing.”
“Then stop looking at me as if you’re the one who’s trapped here,” Elliot says. “Because it’s killing me. It’s killing me to see that you don’t even want me to touch you anymore.”
Seraphina presses her lips together because she has no idea how to explain to him that she does feel trapped, even if it’s not because of him.
And that’s precisely why she finds it unbearable.
Elliot is a good man. He isn’t cruel or indifferent.
He’s still fighting for their marriage—or at least, he’s tried—while his wife thinks of someone else every time she closes her eyes.
“I just need to disconnect for a bit,” Seraphina says, trying to smile.
“That’s what I’m trying to get us to do this weekend,” Elliot replies with a sad expression. “But it seems like you don’t even want me to try anymore.”
Seraphina looks down, embarrassed, and glances back at her phone. She still hasn’t received a single message, and that absence leaves her with a ridiculous, agonizing emptiness that makes her hate herself just a little more.
Elliot lets out a bitter laugh.
“You know what the worst part is, Phina?” he asks without looking at her.
She barely turns her head.
“That I don’t even know anymore if you’re thinking about the clinic, work… or just wishing you were anywhere else but here with me.”
The words hang between them as the rain continues to beat against the windshield. Seraphina can’t think of any answer that won’t tear them apart a little more.
The country inn appears amid damp hills and narrow roads surrounded by forest. The stone facade, illuminated by warm lanterns, looks like something out of a postcard.
Immediately, Seraphina notices the intimacy the place exudes: lit fireplaces, couples talking by fogged-up windows.
The kind of place where people go to reconnect.
Seraphina feels nauseous the moment she walks through the door.
During dinner, she manages to put on a pretty good act.
She smiles when she should and catches up with Elliot on the latest cases she’s handled outside of her work at the clinic.
Seraphina wants to make an effort to rekindle the spark between them, and when Oliver and Ivy come up in conversation, she even manages to laugh.
But the effort required to maintain that functional version of herself is too costly and, above all, a blatant lie.
Elliot senses it all. Every belated smile. Every distant look. Every time she seems to mentally leave the room.
And when they go up to the suite, the emotional exhaustion weighs so heavily that Seraphina can barely stand. The room is beautiful, she realizes. A fireplace crackles beside the bed while the rain beats against the tall windows and the dark forest stirs on the other side of the glass.
Elliot sets the keys on the sideboard and unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt.
“I’m going to order a bottle of wine,” he says. “It’ll do us good.”
“I don’t really feel like drinking tonight,” she replies, looking toward the window.
He nods silently. That cautious silence that hurts even more than an argument.
Seraphina walks over to the window and wraps her arms around herself, watching the raindrops slide down the glass as reality hits her hard. “I don’t want to be here.” And hating herself for it is unbearable.
She hears Elliot’s footsteps approaching from behind, and soon she feels his hands wrap around her waist.
“Leave the rain outside for a while, sweetheart,” he murmurs against her shoulder.
He kisses her neck slowly, tenderly, and carefully.
Seraphina closes her eyes. She tries to concentrate, to feel something. Anything. But all that comes to mind is the memory of other hands on her skin. Nerissa’s breath against her mouth. The weight of her body on top of hers.
The contrast makes her sick.
Elliot turns her toward him and seeks her lips. She lets him kiss her. In fact, she forces herself to. But her body doesn’t respond. She feels nothing. Except guilt. A guilt that numbs her to the bone.
Elliot stops almost immediately and watches her for a few seconds before pulling back.
“It’s like hugging a fucking mannequin,” he says, with a quiet devastation that breaks Seraphina.
“I’m sorry…” she whispers.
“No. You’re not sorry,” Elliot replies, and for the first time there is anger in his voice. “Stop lying to me, Seraphina. I’m not an idiot. I’m your husband. I know when you really want me and when you’re faking it. Has something happened that you’re not telling me?”
Tears threaten to spill from Seraphina’s eyes.
“I’m not faking it,” she replies as best she can.
“Then look me in the eye and tell me what the hell is going on,” he demands, pacing nervously by the fireplace. “Is there someone else? Because you’ve even been acting really weird whenever Adrian’s around. And that’s not like you.”
The name hits her like a whip.
“Why would I be like that?” she asks, too quickly.
Elliot frowns.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who seems terrified of something.”
“It’s nothing, really,” she replies, looking away.
“My God…” Elliot murmurs. “What are you not telling me? Tell me the truth, please. Because I’m starting to go crazy trying to figure out when I lost my wife.”
Elliot moves closer to her, but keeps his distance, as if he no longer knows whether he can touch her. Seraphina hugs herself tighter, trying to stop the trembling.
“There’s no one else, I promise,” she lies.
Elliot stares at her. For a second, Seraphina has the feeling she wasn’t wrong about Adrian and that her husband knows everything.
“Then explain to me why you’re looking at me as if I disgust you,” he says.
“You don’t disgust me,” Seraphina replies, clenching her fingers against her arms. “I love you, Elliot. You’re a wonderful man. You’re the father of my children and…”
“But you don’t love me anymore,” he finishes.
Seraphina can’t give him an answer without destroying him.
“If there’s someone else, I’d rather know than keep driving myself crazy trying to figure out what I did wrong,” Elliot says, running a hand through his hair.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” she assures him through her tears. “Nothing.”
“Then why do I feel like I’ve been losing you for a while now?”
“Because I fell in love with someone else. With a woman.” The words burn in her throat, but she can’t bring herself to say them out loud.
“I’m just trying to find myself again,” she whispers.
Elliot remains motionless for several seconds. Then he nods, exhausted.
That night they sleep at opposite ends of the bed. And Seraphina stays awake until dawn, feeling like the worst person in the world.
The drive back to Manchester on Sunday afternoon is filled with a devastating silence. They don’t even argue. And that’s the worst part. An argument would have meant there was still something left to salvage. But Elliot seems completely drained.
He drives, staring straight ahead as the rain once again engulfs the highway.
Seraphina holds the phone in her hands the entire way, not daring to text. While Elliot is falling apart trying to hold on to her, Nerissa seems able to move on without her.
When they get home, it takes Elliot several seconds to turn off the engine.
“The kids are coming back tomorrow after school. Let’s at least try not to let them notice that their mom and dad aren’t even looking at each other anymore, okay?” he says, without looking at her.
“Okay,” Seraphina replies.
Elliot gets out of the car and starts unloading the suitcases. Seraphina enters the house alone. The entryway is dark and empty, and as she hears Elliot moving around outside the car, something inside her finally breaks.
She rushes upstairs to the bathroom, locks the door, and collapses. The trembling starts in her hands and spreads throughout her body. She leans against the marble sink, trying to breathe as tears blur her vision.
She can’t go on like this. She can’t think about Nerissa and pretend to live a normal life again. She can’t keep splitting herself in two every day.
She pulls out her phone and opens the secret chat she has with her. The cursor blinks. It takes her almost a minute to type.
“I can’t keep doing this, Nerissa. It’s over.”
Tears fall onto the screen.
“I can’t take it anymore.”
She stares at the message for several seconds. Then she hits send and feels exactly as if she were tearing a vital part of her body out with her bare hands.