Marcus looked confused.
“What are you doing?”
I opened the closet and pulled out the large suitcase we’d used for vacations years ago.
Without a word, I carried it into the living room and set it at Marcus’s feet.
He looked from the suitcase to me.
“Liza.”
“You wanted my son to leave.”
I pointed at the suitcase.
“Now it’s your turn.”
His face drained of color.
“You’re throwing me out?”
“You threw away six years of my life.”
He took a step toward me.
“We can fix this.”
I backed away.
“No.”
“You owe me that much.”
“I don’t owe you another minute.”
His voice softened.
“I love you.”
I looked him straight in the
eye.
“If you loved me, you would never have made me believe my son stopped loving me.”
He reached for my hand.
I pulled it away.
“Pack your things.”
“Liza.”
