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Tears filled her eyes as she shook uncontrollably. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Just leave me alone,” she whined.
“No. This has to stop. Whatever this is. You have a daughter to take care of.”
She placed her hands over her face and bawled. “You don’t know what it’s like.”
I stood and met her in the great room. I placed a hand on her bony shoulder. She was too thin. “What don’t I know?” I reminded myself to take a gentler touch, considering Jonathon’s betrayals.
She lowered her hands to reveal mascara-stained eyes. “Try being the joke of this town. Everyone knew Jonathon was cheating on me. People even thought he had the right to, since they believed I trapped him into marrying me. And you know what? They were right. I got pregnant on purpose because I was tired of being poor.” She covered her mouth like she hadn’t meant to confess that.
My hand dropped, stunned at this revelation. “Did Jonathon know?”
“He suspected as much when I told him about Quinn, but he said he loved me, so it didn’t matter. That was a lie. It very much mattered to him. Hardly a day went by where he didn’t remind me I owed my cushy life to him,” she cried.
“Why did you stay with him?”
“What else was I going to do? I had one year of community college and no life skills other than knowing how to throw a dinner party and decorate a house. It was all I was good for. That and sex, when he wanted me.” She fell into my arms and sobbed into my chest.
I held her tight. This was turning out much differently than I thought it would. I knew things were bad between her and Jonathon, but I had no idea they were this bad.
“Maybe I am a prostitute. I sold my body and soul for money.”
No wonder my parents didn’t love money. It does dumb things to people. Even hurtful things. I knew that from personal experience.
“Stella.” I stroked her messy hair. “You are so much more than you believe.”
“How can you say that? You thought I was a hooker.”
“Well, I mean, can you blame me? You don’t stay in places like the Red Box Motel. And … you put on quite the show with … Who is that guy?”
Her sobs quieted, yet she still clung to me. “His name is Skip,” she murmured against my chest. “He’s only staying there because I asked him to. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing us together.”
“Um … You weren’t exactly being careful.”
“No one I know goes to that side of the lake,” she said as if it were a dirty word. She was still ashamed of her roots, it would seem.
“Regardless, how did you meet him? When did you meet him? You barely buried your husband.”
She leaned away from me and bit her lip coyly. “It sounds silly, but we met online. He’s been a great emotional support to me over the last several months.”
“Online? Where online?”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s great.”
Oh, I was worried. Very worried. “Tell me more.”
“I can’t. We want to keep this private for now. See where it goes.”
I scrunched my brow. “Do you want to keep it secret, or does he?” I was feeling some major red-flag vibes from this situation.
“Both.”
“Hmm. Does this Skip have a last name?”
“Of course.”
