Page 41 of The Husband I Left

The phone rings again. I answer it without thinking.

“Yeah? What?” I snap.

“Whoa, dude, chill,” says a male voice. “I’m just calling about the apartment. The ad said—“

I hang up and somehow resist the urge to throw the phone out the window.

In the kitchen, I find Leo sitting at the island counter, looking far too well-rested and cheerful for someone who was out until the early hours. Mrs. Stewart is sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Leo says, grinning at me. “You look like death took one look at you and decided to pass.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter, dropping onto the stool beside him.

Mrs. Stewart tuts disapprovingly. “Language, Mr. Sinclair. I’ve made you breakfast as well.” She places a plate in front of me, looking concerned. “You should eat something. It will help with the… after effects.”

My phone buzzes yet again. I glance at it; another text about a non-existent car I’m supposedly selling.

“Someone seems popular this morning,” Leo observes, shoveling eggs into his mouth.

“Someone has put my personal phone number online,” I growl. “I’ve had people calling or texting me about apartments and PlayStations and motorcycles and God knows what else from the moment I woke up.”

Leo actually laughs at this, the traitor. “Sounds like Genny’s been busy.”

“It’s not funny.” The phone buzzes again. And again. I finally turn it off completely, tossing it onto the counter with a clatter.

Mrs. Stewart places a cup of coffee in front of me. I eye it suspiciously, sniffing it before taking a tentative sip.

“I’m not going to poison you, Mr. Sinclair,” Mrs. Stewart says, looking offended.

“I wouldn’t put anything past anyone right now,” I mutter, examining my breakfast with the same caution, poking at the eggs with my fork.

Leo watches me, clearly amused. “You seem a bit jumpy this morning. Everything alright?”

I shoot him a withering glare. “My wife left me, and on her way out, she made sure I can’t trust anything in my own home. So, no, everything is not alright.”

He puts down his fork. “Oliver. What did she do to you?”

Instead of answering, I take a small, cautious bite of the eggs. Just eggs. So far, so good. I take a sip of my coffee and don’t taste anything other than coffee. Even better.

“There was something in my toothpaste,” I say finally.

“What kind of something?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stop to identify it. I was busy trying not to die over the sink. Also, Mrs. Stewart, I’m going to need you to restock the bathroom. All of it. Everything.”

“Yes sir,” Mrs. Stewart doesn’t look at all surprised by my request. I get the uncomfortable feeling that she already knew.

I set my fork down, pushing the plate away. My stomach’s too unsettled for food, anyway. “I’m going to talk to her parents in person. If I’m standing on their doorstep, they might be willing to hear me out.”

“Assuming they don’t slam the door in your face, what do you expect them to actually do?”

“I don’t know… talk to her or at least give me a hint where I can find her.”

“I don’t think it’ll work, Oliver.”

“I can be very persuasive. They like me. They want Genny to be happy. If I can just talk to them, I can convince them that I can still make her happy.”

“This is going to go brilliantly,” Leo mutters into his coffee. “I’m coming with you. I’d hate to miss the show.”