The Last Thing He Gave Me
I quit my job the next morning.
It takes less than twenty minutes.
The job was never my dream. It was simply close to Ethan.
By noon, I am back at our apartment with an empty suitcase on the bed.
Three years of my life fit into one large case and two boxes.
I am zipping the suitcase when the front door opens.
Ethan walks in.
Vanessa is behind him.
Her eyes land on the suitcase.
She almost looks pleased.
“I told you.”
Ethan’s face darkens.
“Why are you here?”
“I live here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m packing.”
Vanessa folds her arms.
“Right on schedule.”
I keep moving.
Ethan steps closer.
“Claire, where are you going?”
“Not your problem.”
“You’re carrying my child.”
I stop.
He has said that twice now.
Both times only after accusing me of using the same child against him.
I turn back to the dresser.
Vanessa laughs softly.
“This is the part where she leaves without telling you where she’s going so you panic.”
Ethan shoots her a look.
She shrugs.
“What? I’m wrong?”
I open a drawer and take out a small box.
“No. You’re both right.”
Ethan frowns.
I hand him the box.
“Everything that belongs to you.”
Inside are the apartment key, the building access card, and the few things I kept because they meant something once.
At the bottom is a small wooden pendant.
Ethan sees it and freezes.
He carved it for me after my parents died.
Back then, I could barely sleep.
I kept waking up from the same nightmare.
One night, Ethan sat beside me until sunrise.
The next week, he showed up with a small piece of wood he had sanded smooth and carved by hand.
Nothing expensive.
Nothing perfect.
Just something he made because he did not know how else to help me.
I wore it for years.
Ethan reaches for it slowly.
“You’re giving this back too?”
“Yes.”
His fingers close around the pendant.
Vanessa leans over.
“Classic.”
I look at her.
She smiles.
“Return the sentimental gift so he’ll stare at it later and miss you.”
Something inside me finally snaps.
I take the pendant from Ethan’s hand.
He looks startled.
I walk to the kitchen trash and drop it in.
The sound is tiny.
Ethan goes completely still.
“There.”
I look at Vanessa.
“Now what does that mean?”
For once, she has no answer ready.
I turn back to my suitcase.
Ethan grabs the handle before I can lift it.
“Enough.”
I look at his hand.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“You’re not walking out because of one stupid argument.”
“One?”
His jaw tightens.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
Vanessa comes closer.
“Claire, if you’re innocent, why are you acting like this?”
I look at her.
“I’m not proving anything to you.”
“Because you can’t?”
I reach for the suitcase again.
Ethan keeps his hand on it.
“Do the DNA test. That’s all I’m asking.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t owe you proof.”
His expression hardens.
“So you’d rather end three years over a simple test?”
“No.”
I pull the suitcase toward me.
“I’m ending three years because you asked for one.”
For a second, nobody moves.
Then Ethan catches my wrist.
“Stop.”
I yank my arm back.
Vanessa steps in at the same time.
My shoulder hits hers.
She gasps and stumbles backward.
Her arms fly out.
She grabs at me.
We both lose balance.
I hit the floor hard.
Pain tears through my lower stomach.
Vanessa lands partly against me, then rolls away.
“Vanessa!”
Ethan rushes over.
I try to sit up.
My vision blurs.
He does not look at me.
He pulls Vanessa into his arms.
“Are you hurt?”
“My ankle.”
She winces.
Ethan turns on me.
“What is wrong with you?”
I stare at him.
“I didn’t—”
“You shoved her.”
“I didn’t.”
“She was trying to stop you from leaving.”
Vanessa clutches his shirt.
“It’s okay. Don’t fight because of me.”
Ethan slides one arm under her knees.
He lifts her.
I press a hand against my stomach.
“Ethan.”
He looks back.
Not at my face.
At the suitcase.
Then at me.
“Stay here until you calm down.”
He carries Vanessa out.
The door slams.
I sit on the floor, breathing through the pain.
For a moment, everything is silent.
Then warmth spreads beneath my hand.
I look down.
Warm blood runs down my legs.