The meaning of life

The meaning of life
Part 2
“Not here?” I repeated, louder this time. A few people nearby turned their heads. “You brought whatever this is to an airport, Ethan. So yes—here.”
The young woman looked like she might faint. She clutched her purse to her chest and took another step away from him. “You told me you were divorced,” she said, her voice trembling. “You said the papers were being finalized.”
I laughed, but it came out sharp and ugly. “Divorced? That’s interesting, because I was at our house this morning packing his favorite travel pillow.”
Ethan dragged a hand down his face. “Claire, please. You’re making a scene.”
“No,” I said. “You made a scene the second you decided to play husband to me and future father to someone else.”
The girl turned to him so fast her ponytail whipped over her shoulder. “Future father?”
That was when I understood she didn’t know everything either.
I stared at her, then at the envelope in her bag. “You really don’t know, do you?”
She swallowed hard. “Know what?”
Before Ethan could stop me, I reached for the paper sticking out of her purse. She yanked back too late. The top page was enough. I saw her name—Madison Reed. I saw his name—Ethan Cole. I saw the clinic letterhead and the words treatment plan, embryo transfer, and intended parents.
My hands started shaking.
Madison covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”
I looked at Ethan. “You used our joint savings.”
He didn’t deny it.
The answer was written all over his face, and suddenly I was back in our kitchen six months earlier, when I’d asked why thirty thousand dollars had been moved out of our account. He had told me it was for a business investment. He had kissed my forehead and told me not to worry. I remembered crying alone in our bedroom after another failed conversation about why he kept delaying IVF for us, even though he knew how badly I wanted children.
All that time, he hadn’t been hesitating.
He had just chosen someone else.
Madison’s voice broke beside me. “You told me you were starting over. You said your marriage ended because she didn’t want kids.”
I closed my eyes for one terrible second. Then I looked at her again, really looked at her. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-six. Stylish, nervous, mascara already smudging under her eyes. She didn’t look smug anymore. She looked humiliated.
Ethan stepped toward us, lowering his voice. “Both of you need to calm down. We can talk privately.”
I backed away from him. “Do not put yourself in the center of this like you’re managing a meeting.”
Madison’s eyes filled with tears. “Were you ever going to tell me the truth?”
He said nothing.
That silence told us everything.
Then she reached into her purse, pulled out the ring he’d apparently given her, and dropped it into his palm.
“You used me,” she whispered.
I should have felt victorious. Instead, I just felt hollow.
Ethan looked at me like he still expected me to save him somehow, like I had in every fight, every excuse, every mess during our eight years together.
But this time, I didn’t.
I took out my phone, opened our banking app, and said, “Before you get on any plane today, you’re going to transfer every dollar you stole from me.”
And when his expression hardened, I added the one sentence that finally made him panic.
“Because if you don’t, my next call is to my attorney—and the clinic.
”
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