Page 19 of My Dirty Father In Law
But where could she go? I try to remember the names of some of her girlfriends, but in my panicked state, I can’t recall a single one. We’ve been so intent on fucking that I’ve never met any in person, either, so I have no way of reaching out to an acquaintance. There’s a sharp pain in my chest and I wonder if I’m having a heart attack. Oh shit. I stagger to the front door, only to hear the steps of my butler approaching.
“Sir?” Stevenson asks, his expression concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I thought you were off for the day,” I gasp, clutching at my chest. The middle-aged man ignores my comment, his eyes alarmed.
“Sir, you’re having a medical emergency. Let me call 9-1-1.”
But I stop him.
“No, I’m fine,” I wheeze, trying to smile despite the pain. Holy fuck, it feels like there’s an elephant crouching on my torso. What the hell! Am I dying?
But Stevenson’s already reaching for his phone when I knock it out of his hand.
“Stevenson,” I wheeze. “Where’s Juliette?”
His expression is frozen.
“She left earlier. About an hour ago.”
“To where?” I wheeze, about to faint from the pain. “Where did she go?”
“She said she was headed to the airport,” he responds. “Sir, let me call an ambulance!”
But using my last ounce of strength, I push the poor butler aside and fling myself out of the house. Unfortunately, my heart has given out. I’m weak, barely able to breathe, and fall to my knees on the circular driveway.
“Juliette!” I scream, clutching my chest. “NO!” Then, all goes dark.
11
Juliette
“Merci,” I say to the woman at the Air France counter. “Thank you so much.”
“De rien,” she replies before gesturing with one hand. “Security is to the right.”
I nod and smile weakly before dragging my roller bag to the checkpoint entry. It’s odd how my belongings have been reduced to this tiny overnight suitcase, and yet I don’t care because in the end, it’s just stuff. As a result, I donated about ninety percent of my clothes to the local Goodwill, only keeping the essentials. It didn’t seem right to bring a ton of baggage with me on the next step of my journey. It’s been heart-breaking and painful, but this is the final chapter of my American adventure.
After all, my period came today, which means that I’m not pregnant. Despite the constant lovemaking and my youthful age, I wasn’t fertile enough to conceive within the sixty day window, which means that I need to leave the United States now.
“Just stay,” my friend Marielle urged on the phone. “Who cares if you overstay your visa? Tons of people do it all the time.”
“Yeah, but I’d be illegal, and this is a bad time to be an illegal,” I said. “I mean, ICE is basically kidnapping people off the street at this point, and I don’t want to risk it. If I’m going to go, then I’m going to go with my head held up.”
Marielle winced a bit, her pretty features looking pinched.
“There’s nothing honorable or dignified about what ICE is doing, so I wouldn’t worry about maintaining your pride,” she said in an urgent tone. “It’s not worth it, and especially not when it comes to something like this. Besides, you know I got my visa through the kennel I work at. Let me see if I can get you one too!”
“But I hate dogs,” I said with a pointed look. “I mean, not hate hate, but I’m allergic to canine fur.”
“Just take medication,” Marielle said with a wave of her hand. “The owners are cool and I know when I explain your situation, they’ll be open to helping you apply for an H-1B. It’ll work out!”
I shake my head.
“Mari, I appreciate it so much. You’re incredibly kind and caring, and so generous too, but there’s no way that I could qualify as a dog trainer, and especially not the kind you are. Don’t you work specifically with herding dogs?”
My pretty French friend nods while brightening.
“Yes, livestock guardian dogs who guard flocks of sheep, goats, and even cattle sometimes.”
