Chapter 11
BETH
Ididn’t know what to expect when Chris discovered I was gone, but part of me braced for a storm that never quite broke as I’d imagined.
I knew he would call. When my phone first lit up with his name, a familiar knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach.
But I didn’t answer. I let them all go to voicemail.
Each notification felt like a small victory, proof that I could finally set a boundary that held firm.
He called Lisa, too, but she didn’t answer either.
She’d catch me glancing at my phone and would just give me this knowing look, like she understood that silence was the only language Chris would truly hear right now. Then came the texts.
Beth, I don’t get why you’re doing this.
I stared at the message, the words looping through my brain, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply. I had spent too many years trying to make him understand me, trying to bridge the gap he didn’t see. I didn’t have the energy anymore. Another text came in.
Come home, and we can talk this out like adults.
We can’t keep avoiding each other. You’re making this bigger than it needs to be.
Call me, Beth. Please.
I just want to fix this. I need you.
I left him on read. Maybe that was cruel of me, but it also felt fair.
He had ignored my pleas for help, my quiet requests to be more involved.
Now, it was my turn to ignore him, to make sure he knew what it felt like when the one person who was supposed to listen decided not to.
I turned off the notifications after that, letting the silence fill the gaps between us.
The first couple of days passed like that.
Me in my small room above the diner, him in our penthouse far away.
I wasn’t sure if the space between us felt like relief or something sadder, but I let myself sit with it either way.
I thought that ignoring his attempts to talk might force him to finally listen to what I’d been trying to say all along, to understand why I’d reached the point of no return.
But Chris wasn’t one to sit still and reflect, not when he was used to fixing things on his terms.
I wasn’t even sure if he knew where I was, but that question was answered when a big, black SUV pulled into the gravel parking lot of the diner.
There was something about the vehicle that stood out.
It definitely didn’t belong to a local. It was far too nice and shiny for that.
A vehicle like that had been built to go off-road, but it was clear it had rarely left the pavement.
I wiped my hands on my apron and glanced through the window, my curiosity piqued.
A man stepped out. He didn’t look like he belonged here either.
He wore a perfectly fitted suit and carried himself with a confidence that screamed big city money.
My stomach dropped as he walked through the front door of the diner, eyes scanning the room until they locked on me.
Of course. I should have expected this. I could count on one thing in times like this, and that was Chris’s inability to accept the idea of a problem he couldn’t solve directly.
Sending someone else to do his dirty work was the next best thing in his book.
The diner fell quiet for a moment as the regulars looked up from their meals, their eyes flicking between the suited stranger and me. I braced myself as he approached, offering a polite, almost robotic smile. “Mrs. Lewis?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Beth. You can call me Beth.”
He blinked but recovered quickly. “Mrs. Lewis,” he corrected, as though my name didn’t matter as much as the formalities. “My name is Daniel Grant, and I represent your husband.”
That’s when I saw the envelope in his hand, sealed with crisp edges like it was meant for a corporate office.
My pulse quickened as I took the envelope, my fingers brushing over the smooth paper.
I could feel Lisa watching me from across the counter, and the quiet murmur of the regulars returned, though I could sense their eyes lingering.
“Is this a letter?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.
“Something like that. It’s an account number, access codes, some necessary financial information.
” He spoke so calmly, as if he was explaining a bank deposit instead of delivering what felt like a check to make sure I wouldn’t be any trouble.
“Mr. Lewis wanted to ensure your comfort is seen to. He’s set up an unrestricted bank account in your name, with a generous monthly allowance. ”
I stared at him, not quite sure what I’d expected.
But it wasn’t this. Chris thought he could fix everything by giving me money?
After everything, he still thought that would be enough?
I looked down at the envelope in my hands.
It suddenly felt heavier than it was, a weight I hadn’t asked for.
The truth of it was simple: Chris didn’t know me.
And maybe he never would. The gesture was just one more attempt to control the situation without truly understanding it.
I shook my head, unable to stop the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. I handed the envelope back to the courier. “You can tell your boss I’m not interested.”
The man looked momentarily confused but maintained his professionalism. “He thought this might be helpful. Maybe we should sit down and discuss this.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” I pushed past him, but not without giving the envelope a final look. “You can tell Chris if he really wants to talk, he should try showing up here himself and facing me. I’m not playing his little power games from a distance.”
With that, I turned and walked into the back, the diner’s chatter filling the space where the courier’s confusion still hung in the air.
Lisa caught my eye as I went into the office, and I saw her shake her head, a look of knowing resignation passing over her.
I should have guessed this was how he would respond, with more money and more control, and less of what I actually needed.
It hurt in a way I hadn’t expected. Chris was always about efficiency.
And maybe I’d hoped that this time, when push came to shove, he might choose something different, something real, instead of relying on his wealth to fix the fractures between us.
But he hadn’t, and I was beginning to realize he might not be capable of that.
Lisa joined me a few minutes later, her expression soft but steady. “You okay?” she asked like she already knew the answer.
“Yeah.” I didn’t believe my own words, but I needed to say them. “I just didn’t think it would hit me like this.”
She leaned against the desk, giving me the space to breathe through it. “He doesn’t get it, Beth. Maybe he never will.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat.
Chris didn’t understand what I had been trying to tell him, and instead of listening, he had sent someone to clean up the mess with money.
It was easier for him, simpler, but it felt like betrayal to me.
A deep, quiet kind of betrayal. The kind I wasn’t sure I could forgive anymore.
It wasn’t the money itself that hurt, though.
It was the message behind it, that he still thought I could be bought, that I’d be okay with his attempt to make everything better from afar.
Maybe, once, I would’ve appreciated it, taken it as care.
But not anymore. Now it just felt like he hadn’t listened to a word I’d said.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. I kept busy helping customers, pouring coffee, cleaning tables, but every time the bell on the front door jingled, I looked up, half-expecting someone else to come waltzing in with some other kind of fix Chris had thought of.
But no one else came. By the time the diner closed, I was exhausted in a way that went deeper than just physical.
The emotions, the expectations, the quiet disappointment all wrapped around me, suffocating my strength, but I had to keep pushing through it.
That night, Lisa made dinner, something simple from what was left in the fridge, and we sat at her small dining table, eating in silence for the first few bites.
The sun had set, and the diner was quiet below, a rare moment of peace in a day that felt anything but peaceful.
Lisa finally spoke, breaking the quiet between us.
“You handled that well today.”
I gave her a weak smile. “Did I? Because I feel like I’m on the verge of falling apart.”
“Maybe, but you’re still standing,” she replied, taking another bite of her food. “You’re stronger than you think, Beth.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but tonight, it felt more like a platitude.
Strength didn’t feel like something I possessed right now.
I was just trying to hold on and make it through the day, that was it.
There was no deeper meaning in it beyond survival.
I was so tired of hearing words that didn’t fit what I actually felt, but I knew Lisa was trying.
And honestly, her support meant something to me, even if it wasn’t quite what I needed to hear.
And that thought, the one about how little things seemed to match up with what I was feeling inside, that’s what lingered most.
But tomorrow was another day. Maybe it would be easier. Maybe Chris would wake up and realize I needed more than financial bandages. I doubted it, but for now, it was easier to hope than to accept that he would never change.