Chapter 2: THAT SLEAZEBAG

JOANNA

The elevator ride down is torture. Thankfully, it was blessedly empty. The last thing I need right now is disintegrating in the presence of strangers.

I spend all thirty seconds trying not to throw up. My reflection stares back at me from the mirrored wall.

Red eyes. Trembling hands. Brown hair still messy from his fingers. From an hour ago.

God.

A fresh wave of nausea crashes over me. I lean one hand on the wall to keep myself upright. The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I practically stumble into the lobby.

“Miss? Are you okay?” The concierge’s voice follows me, concerned.

I don’t answer. If I open my mouth, I’ll start crying again.

The evening air hits me the second I step outside. It smells like a storm is brewing.

Cars rush past. People laugh somewhere across the street. A couple walks by holding hands.The sight makes my chest ache.

I force a deep breath into my lungs and yank my phone out of my pocket. My hands are still shaking, but a little more controlled now. I call the only person I can think of.

Ria picks up on the second ring.

“Jo?”

The concern in her voice is immediate. We’re both more of texters than we are callers.

The note of concern in her voice is all it takes. The first sob escapes before I can stop it.

“Oh shit.”

“Ria—”

I can’t finish because the words won’t come out. A couple of passersby give me curious glances. I wonder the picture I must be painting, a grown woman crying openly in the street like a child.

“Where are you?”

“Ken—Kenneth’s—“ I heave between broken breaths.

“Shit, never mind. You texted me the address earlier when leaving home. Stay there,” she says immediately. “I’m coming.”

The line disconnects. I’m so grateful for her.

I stand on the sidewalk trying so hard to keep my tears at bay. I’m also trying so hard not to think about the fact that Kenneth hadn’t even bothered to come after me. I was still outside his apartment building, and he was probably texting Paula to bring a bottle of champagne on her next visit.

I thumb through my phone with urgency. I block his number. Then I block Paula’s. Then I stand there staring at the screen, waiting to feel better. Waiting to feel empowered. Waiting to feel something.

But all I feel is numb.

A familiar car pulls up in front of me.The passenger door flies open.

“Get in,” Ria says.

The moment I slide into the seat, she takes one look at my face and says, “Who do I need to kill?”

A watery laugh escapes me.

Then another.

And another.

Until suddenly I’m crying so hard I can’t breathe. It’s the ugliest type of ugly-crying. My face is all scrunched up and snot runs down my nostrils.

Ria reaches across the console and grabs my hand as she drives us home.

“Hey. It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

***

“He did WHAT?!”

Ria screeches after I’m done telling her about Ken and Paula. She storms to her feet and begins pacing my room in a flurry of midnight-black hair.

“That—that sleazebag. The next time I see him, How dare he? How dare they? My goodness!”

Her anger helps me feel vindicated as I nestle deeper into the blankets cuddling me. After hours of wordless howls and painful tears, I feel spent. And numb. It’s nice to have someone else doing the feeling for me.

“I should have tried harder to stop you from getting back with him after the birthday incident. For fucksake, how selfish could they both be? Like, it’s not that hard, if you still have feelings for each other, fucking be together and don’t drag innocent people into your toxic space!”

Ria looks positively murderous. She has always been anti-Ken.

I feel a fresh wave of tears coming. Ria immediately sobers up and comes to the bed to engulf me in a hug. “Hey, it’s okay, baby,” she coos. “He’s a manipulative, selfish, gaslighting bastard. He and his ex can go fuck themselves until the end of the world. This is all on them, not you. They’re shitty human beings.”

“I loved him,” I cry. “Despite everything, I chose to stay because—because I loved him and he was my first.”

The last admission has me bawling harder.

Ria holds me until I cry it all out, and all I have left is a hollow, cavernous exhaustion. My eyes burn, my throat feels like sandpaper, and the sheer weight of the betrayal presses down on my chest until breathing feels like pulling broken glass into my lungs.

Ria looks down at me, her fierce expression melting into deep concern as she notices the way I'm staring blankly at the wall. She sighs softly, climbing onto the mattress and pulling the heavy duvet up to my chin.

"Sleep, baby," she whispers, brushing a stray strand of red hair from my forehead. "Just close your eyes. I'm right here."

I don't argue. The moment my head hits the pillow, the world goes black.