Page 56 of The Husband Diet
‘Mrs. Lowenstein?’
Not for long, I wanted to answer. I glanced at the display. It was an external line. Someone must have asked for me specifically.
‘Yes?’
‘A friend of Paul Belhomme’s?’
Aw, crap. The bastard had tried to set me up with another one of his rare heterosexual friends again. ‘Er, yes?’
‘We have your number down as his emergency contact. There’s been an accident, ma’am.’
I gripped the receiver. ‘Is he alright? Where is he?’
A heavy silence fell, and then I knew.
‘He had a car accident.’
My knees buckled and I hit the chair hard. ‘This is some kind of joke, isn’t it?’ I pleaded as they all do.
‘No, ma’am.’
Paul. Last night he was painting my toenails, and now he was dead.Oh, Paul.
‘Ma’am?’
I sat up. ‘Yes. Where am I going?’
‘Boston County Medical Center.’
‘I’ll be there as fast as I can.’
I don’t remember how I got there, except that I was in an elevator going down to where the morgue was located, according to all the blue signs on the walls. And I suddenly gagged.Paul. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face seeing his lifeless body. But if I didn’t, who would? I was his best friend. The only friend he’d want here.
I pushed down the frog in my throat as the elevator doors pinged open. The entire floor was tiled white, just like you see in the movies, and all around was a stench of decay smothered in bleach. I pictured him, lying flat on his back, eyes closed, and clamped my hand over my mouth, swallowing the bile of my despair and approaching the woman in the white coat sitting at a desk.
‘Excuse me?’ I choked and she stood up, her face grave.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered as if she’d known him.
But she hadn’t been that lucky to have him in her life. I swallowed again and clenched my fists to stop them from shaking.
‘May I see him?’ I asked.
‘Of course, whenever you’re ready.’
I huffed and wiped away the sweat from my forehead.Oh, Paul…! Why did this happen to you? Why did you leave me?
You know the saying, only the good die young? How true was that! Can you think of someone here who should have gone way before everyone else? Someone I’d been sending off for years in my fantasies? It served me right. All this time desiring Ira’s death and karma came round to kick me in the ass, taking from me the adult I loved most in the world, more than my own siblings, more than my own parents.
Paul had been everything to me: my friend, my brother, my maid, my cook, my image consultant, my therapist, my life coach, my babysitter. Had he been straight, and assuming he desired me, I would never have needed anyone else. And now this gem of a man was gone from my life for good. How was I supposed to go on without him? How could anything ever be bearable from now on?
‘Ma’am?’
‘I’m ready.’ Which was so not true.
As she beckoned me to follow her, my legs turned to rubber and I swayed. She turned to take my arm.
‘Are you OK?’ she whispered.
