Page 30 of The Unraveling

And they said they loved each other.

They love each other? Already?

It doesn’t make me feel better, but it must be an ex or someone he used to have something with. Otherwise that’s way too fast to fall in love.

Or…is it? Once Romeo and Juliet closed last year, and he surprised me by showing up, he and I were only together a week or so before we decided to move to London. Not only that, but I’d been willing to give up everything for him.

I had thought that was because we were special. Soulmates. But maybe this is just what he does. Maybe this is what everyone feels like when they’re with him.

It’s hard to suddenly see him through this new light, but…what other explanation is there?

When I say all of that to Arabella, both of us stuffed into the back of a taxi with all my things, she says, “I don’t know, does he have a sister or something?”

There’s a moment of hope. “Wait, he does have a sister,” I say. Then I remember. “But she’s got long black hair and last time she FaceTimed she was much heavier than that girl was. She was pregnant, but still.”

“She might have bleached her hair?” says Arabella encouragingly.

The taxi driver glances back in the mirror and then I see him give a small shake of the head, not for my benefit. He probably hears things like this all the time. Scorned women trying to rationalize away the fact that whatever dumb man is just not that into her.

“She also lives in California and has another young kid and she’s married. That woman, on top of not looking like her, was not wearing a ring.”

“You’re like Sherlock Holmes,” says Arabella. “I guess that makes me Whatsit.”

I snort. “Whatsit?”

She’s not making a joke. She furrows her brow. “Yes, Sherlock and Whatsit. You know, that line? ‘Elementary, my dear Whatsit.’ ”

I don’t know if it’s the intensity of the other emotions rolling around inside me, but when she says that, I start laughing and I cannot stop.

She starts laughing, too. “Is that not right?”

I shake my head, still unable to speak for laughing. “Wat—it’s Watson!”

“Shut up, you’re kidding me. My whole life I thought it was the silly name Whatsit.”

When I finally catch my breath, the crushing fear and frenzy of what I just did and heard hits me. Jordan. That woman.

I’m not like that political wife Arabella told me about, the one who found it sexy to imagine her husband with another woman. Have I had a threesome? Yes. But do it with the person I’m in love with? I could never. It would kill me.

I shut my eyes.

“Are you okay?” asks Arabella, seeing me.

“Yeah, sorry.” I fight the tears that want to pour out of me. “Just a hard breakup.” I bite my tongue and then add, “Something big better be coming. Or the fucking universe hates me.”

“Oh, something big will come. I promise you that.”

She laughs and then looks out the window. I think she’s making a sex joke, but there’s something just a little bit off about the way she said it.

Chapter Ten

“What do you say we go out to dinner? Hm? We can go forget about stupid men.”

Arabella and I have just gotten back to her apartment—or, I guess, our apartment.

“It’s my treat,” she adds, sweetening the deal.

“No, that’s okay,” I say.

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