Chapter 49
Liz, March 14
“Ma’am, can I get you another glass of water?” The waiter’s voice is patient, careful. I’ve been here over an hour, drinking water while Matt is late — again.
I straighten in my chair and smile, but this time it’s deliberate, controlled. “No, thank you. Actually, I’ll have a chicken quesadilla with extra salsa to go.”
I grab my phone, my fingers steady despite the heat in my chest.
Liz: I cannot keep doing this. Working too much is one thing, broken promises are another. Would it have killed you to call or text? I’m done waiting. I will get my things tonight.
I set the phone down. No frantic checking, no pacing. Just calm, purposeful breathing. When the food arrives, I pay the bill, grab my bag, and stand. I give the waiter a polite nod. “Thank you.”
Out the door I go, the city air hitting my face, crisp and clear. I don’t wait. I don’t second-guess. The car is waiting, and I slide into the driver’s seat with a sense of resolve I haven’t felt in months.
No answer from Matt. Fine. Doesn’t matter. I start the engine, let the tires hum against the asphalt, and decide right then: I will not let anyone else—Matt, work, fear—dictate my day, my life, my choices.
I glance down at the phone on the passenger seat. Whatever. I’ve made my move. No regrets.