The elevator shoots upwards, heading to the top floor, and I gaze out over downtown Columbia.
It’s not the biggest city in South Carolina, but it’s bigger than Fireside. I love being a cosmopolitan girl living in a penthouse apartment with a sexy, rich boyfriend. I’m like Gossip Girl or Sex and the City light. Or something.
The bell dings and the doors open to the small foyer. I cross the space to open the door, and I’m surprised when Elliot meets me on the landing. He’s wearing his suit pants, but his jacket is gone. His white dress shirt is crumpled and buttoned awkwardly.
“Hey, babe. You’re back early.” Sweat glistens on his upper lip, and his hair is messy and damp at the temples.
“I’ve been gone three hours.” I glance at the clock hanging in the kitchen and back to my slightly pale boyfriend. “Are you okay? Is your back hurting?”
“No, no.” He forces a laugh, but it’s off. Something’s wrong. “I’m good. I was just getting changed. Thought I might go for a jog.”
“Really?” I can’t hide the disappointment in my tone. “It’s after six.”
“On a Thursday. Did you want to go to dinner or something? We can make a reservation for tomorrow. Tell you what, why don’t you run down and ask Eric if he’ll set that up for us?”
“Run down? I can call him from here.” My chest tightens, and I push past my sweaty boyfriend into our shared apartment. “What’s going on?”
My eyes travel around the living room. Everything is in place—the rich leather sofa is pristine. The polished oak furniture is in order, and a low fire burns in the wall fireplace.
I see no signs of anything unusual, but I can’t deny the sneaking suspicion someone is here.
“What the hell would be going on?” Elliot’s voice goes high, and he clears it. “You’re being silly.”
“Am I?”
“Tell you what, I’ll skip the run, and we can take our chances. Let’s go out to dinner. I’m sure we can get a table somewhere.”
I don’t answer him.
I walk to the bathroom, sensing a trail. It’s like a scent hanging in the air. I’m following the lure of suspicion about the truth I’ve wanted to ignore for so long.
Anxiety is back in my chest, and my stomach trembles. My shoulders are tight when I realize it’s happening. His lies are about to be exposed, and I’m not looking away anymore.
“Who’s here, Elliot?” My voice is even, and I glance from the bedroom to the living room, where he stands watching me.
“I don’t know what you mean, babe.” He smiles, but it’s not his usual, disinterested smile. He’s very interested in what’s happening right now. “I’m here. You’re here.”
“Who else is here?”
I don’t wait for his answer. I continue into our bedroom, where the California king is made perfectly. Hospital corners, not a wrinkle in sight. Only…
“I never make the bed this well.”
“I didn’t want to say anything…” He exhales a heavy chuckle, and I go straight to his walk-in closet.
I used to joke it was as big as my first apartment in Columbia. He’s on my heels, but I beat him to it, jerking the door open.
It’s what I knew I’d find, but still, the blood drains from my face. I feel light-headed.
Sitting on the divan in the middle of the closet with her legs crossed under the yellow spotlight is Nadine.
Her only clothing is a push-up bra and beige silk skirt, and her inky-brown hair is styled in a shoulder-length swooshy bob.
“Your secretary?” I’m shocked by how calm my voice sounds.
“Surprise…” Nadine does a little wave, smiling as her foot bobs in my slip-on pink feathered heels. They were a gift from Daisy, vintage Chanel. She told me to wear them when I felt sexy.
Nadine’s lips are swollen and her red lipstick is smeared. My eyes go to Elliot’s clean face, and I taste bile when I realize she was probably sucking his cock.
“I can explain.” He’s at my side, but I push past him, crossing the bedroom to my smaller closet.
I moved in here with one suitcase. It’ll take exactly one suitcase for me to gather the few things I care about in this world. Sadly, the vintage Chanel slippers will have to stay behind.
“Joselyn, what are you doing?” Elliot grabs my arm, and it takes all my strength to keep from slapping him across his stupid face.
“Even an idiot like you can see what I’m doing.”
“Don’t do this.” His grip tightens, and fire burns up the anxiety in my chest.
“Take your hand off me, or I’ll rip your head off.”
His grip loosens, falling away from my arm, and I jerk open the dresser, shoving everything into my bag as fast as I can. My panties, my Unsolved Mysteries PJs, my fluffy socks. Running to the bathroom, I scoop up my toothbrush and my face creams.
Making my way to the door, I grab my one Armani suit from the closet. I sacrificed and bought it for when I made executive visits… It still has the tags on it.
God, I’m so ashamed.
I hate that Daisy was right.
I hate I stayed here three months longer than I ever should have.
“I wish you would slow down and let me explain.” Idiot Flick is still speaking like I have any interest in hearing his excuses.
Nadine has pulled on a shirt, at least. She’s fastening the buttons over her push-up bra when I see a diamond tennis bracelet sparkling on her wrist.
“Is that…” My eyes squeeze briefly, and I will not cry.
Dammit, I will never cry over this loser again.
“What?” Elliot looks all around the bedroom, and I spy the fucking Jared’s box on the desk.
I almost lose my battle with the tears, but I steel myself. I’m almost out the door.
Stay strong, Sly…
“I’ll leave my key card with Eric.” My voice is so controlled, I wish they gave awards for best actress to regular people.
“Sly…” He touches me again, and my expression must warn him. He quickly holds up both hands like I’ve pulled a gun. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I hope your dick falls off.”
With a slam, I’m in the elevator, hurtling to the ground below.
* * *
“I knew. That’s the whole problem. I always knew.” My nose is hot from crying, and I’m curled up on a plush sofa with my head in Courtney’s lap.
I couldn’t drive all the way home, and I couldn’t call Daisy tonight. Instead, I went to the grocery store and bought several pints of ice cream before calling my friend Courtney.
She told me to come straight to her tiny apartment in Belmont. She’s a true friend.
“It’s not your fault.” She traces her fingers through my hair. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have stayed with him.”
Pushing up into a sitting position, I wipe my nose again. “I kept holding on to the memories of when we met, how things were those first months. I couldn’t believe he would let that go… God, I’m such a fool.”
“You’re an amazing person.” She holds the pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia to me, and I stab the fork in and take another bite.