Chapter 5 - Uncoupling under Fire
The apartment in Portage Park was silent when Alex arrived on Thursday afternoon.
The house looked exactly as it had when he left for his shift on Saturday morning. The coffee maker still had the dry, used grounds from their morning cup. Lucy’s green knit cardigan was draped over the back of the dining chair. A small, wooden toy train they had bought at a local market sat on the mantelpiece, waiting for a nursery that would never be built in this house.
But the closets were empty.
All of Lucy’s clothes, her nursing books, the baby's layette set, and the small wooden crib they had assembled together—all of it was gone.
Alex sat on the edge of the empty bed, his head in his hands, his breath coming in ragged, dry gasps. The telephone on the nightstand rang, the loud, mechanical chime cutting through the quiet house like a knife.
He snatched it up, hoping against hope to hear Lucy’s voice. "Lucy?"
"Alex, it's me."
Valerie’s voice was high-pitched, carries a thin, nasal whine that made his stomach twist into a tight, painful knot. "Alex, have you seen the news? There are reporters outside my apartment! They’re asking about our relationship. They’re calling me a 'home-wrecker' and saying you let people die for me! You have to tell them the truth. You have to tell them you were just doing your job!"
"I am suspended, Valerie," Alex said, his voice flat and dead. "I lost my badge today."
"Well, what about me?" Valerie shrieked. "My boutique is getting hundreds of one-star reviews! People are calling my personal cell phone and leaving death threats! You promised me you would protect me, Alex. You said if I moved back from London, we would finally be together. You can't let them destroy my reputation!"
Alex looked at the empty space on the dresser where Lucy’s jewelry box used to sit. He remembered the night Valerie had called him from O'Hare, crying that her life was a mess, that her husband in London had cheated on her, and that she had no one else but him. He had left Lucy at the dining table, their anniversary dinner half-eaten, to go run to her rescue.
He had felt like a hero.
But looking at the empty, silent house, he realized he hadn't been a hero. He had been a fool, manipulated by a woman who consumed drama like oxygen, while the woman who actually loved him had suffered in silence.
"Don't call me again, Valerie," Alex said.
"What? Alex, you can't—"
He hung up the phone, pulled the cord out of the wall, and threw it across the room.
A sharp knock on the front door made him jump. He ran down the stairs, his heart leaping into his throat, thinking it might be Lucy. He threw the door open.
It wasn't Lucy. It was a young man in a dark windbreaker holding a manila envelope.
"Alex Davis?" the man asked.
"Yes."
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"You’ve been served." The man handed him the envelope, turned on his heel, and walked down the steps.
Alex opened the envelope. The first page was stamped with the seal of the Cook County Circuit Court. Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. And beneath it, a temporary restraining order, barring him from coming within five hundred feet of Lucy Miller or her place of residence.
