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Thirty-Five
Nora
It hurts.
I thought ditching him in another city would be satisfying. But it’s not.
I thought pressing charges against the prick who invaded my home would feel like justice. But it doesn’t.
I thought letting my guard down with someone for one goddamn hour a day would take the stress out of my life but it sure as shit didn’t work.
This just fucking hurts.
There’s a knock on my door. I don’t move from my chair.
“Nora? Nora, honey. It’s us.”
“Our keys don’t work anymore.”
Trix and Melanie. I wasn’t very specific in my text message.
Fuck Clive.
I roll off the armchair and used tissues tumble off me. I wrap my blanket around my shoulders as I drag my feet to the door to open it.
Trix holds two bottles of wine and Melanie carries pizza boxes.
Melanie’s face twists with sympathy the moment she sees me. “Oh, honey…”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
I turn away and march back to my chair.
“Okay,” Trix says. “We won’t talk about it. We’ll just hang out. Okay? No talk necessary…”
“Right,” Melanie adds. She sets the boxes down on the coffee table while Trix retreats to the kitchen for glasses. “Talking is for losers.”
I yank out a fresh tissue and rest my head on the chair’s arm. “Thank you. ‘Cuz I don’t wanna talk.”
Melanie sits on the loveseat across from me. “What do you wanna do, Nor?” she asks, her voice quiet and soothing.
“Cry,” I answer.
“Okay.” She looks down. “Looks like you’ve been doing a lot of that already.”
“You are correct.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
She raises her hands. “Okay. We have pizza for when you are.” Her eyes flick to the wall beside me. “Nora…”
“What?” I murmur.
“Is that a shotgun?”
I don’t look. “Yes.”
