Page 12 of After Everything
What's wrong?
I stared at the question. How did yousummarize the last twenty-four hours into a text message?
David's been having an affair. Five months. I kicked him out. I need a divorce lawyer.
The dots disappeared. Reappeared. Disappeared again.
Then my phone rang.
"Rachel," I answered, my voice cracking on her name.
"I'm going to kill him." Her voice was ice-cold. Lawyer voice. The voice that meant someone was about to get destroyed. "Tell me everything."
CHAPTER 5: DAVID
Iwoke up with my face pressed against high-thread-count sheets that still somehow smelled wrong.
My head was pounding. My mouth tasted like something had died in it. The alarm clock on the nightstand, a sleek monstruosity that probably cost more than most people's TVs, said 11:23 AM. Sunday morning. At least I didn't have to be anywhere.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Even the ceiling in this place was nice. Crown molding. Recessed lighting. The kind of hotel that charged $400 a night and acted like they were doing you a favor.
Four days. It was hard to believe, but four days had passed since Emma kicked me out, and I was still here at the Ritz downtown because I couldn't bring myself to find an actual apartment. Because this was temporary. Because Emma would calm down, we'd talk, and I'd fix this.
I always fixed things.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, hoping it was Emma, but knowing it wasn't.
Sarah: Can I come by? We need to talk.
Relief flooded through me. Finally. I'd been texting her constantly since that night.
Are you okay?
Can we meet?
I need to see you.
And Sarah… Sarah had been distant. Short responses.
Busy with work. Talk soon.
I'd told myself it was just the stress of the case, of keeping things quiet, of everything falling apart so publicly.
But now she was coming. Now we could figure this out together.
I texted her back:
Yes. Please. Room 237.
I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. The mirror showed exactly what I expected: stubble I hadn't bothered to shave, bloodshot eyes, hair that looked like I'd been running my hands through it all night. Which I probably had.
I splashed cold water on my face, brushed my teeth, tried to make myself presentable. Sarah had seen me worse. She'd seen me at my best and my worst, all through law school, and she'd never judged me.
That's what I loved about her. She got me. Really got me.
I pulled on jeans and a clean t-shirt, ran my fingers through my hair one more time. My heart was beating faster than it should have been. Nervous energy, maybe. Or just relief that I was finally going to see her, talk to her, feel less alone in this mess.
The next twenty minutes crawled by. I paced the room. Checked my phone. Looked out the window at the city below. Checked my phone again.
