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My feet are frozen to the spot, and when I don’t move, Foster flings the almost empty bottle at me. I dodge it, and it skitters across the floor, shattering as it hits the wall.
Clenching my fists, I scream at him, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
“To marry you, I must have been,” he snarls. “Get the fuck out, Paige. You’re no good to me.”
I run from the room, blinded by my tears. Locking myself in the bedroom, I hunt out the largest suitcase I can find and start throwing my clothes into the open case. Snot and tears mix on my cheeks, and in a fit of anger, I snatch the sleeve of Foster’s blue silk dress shirt to wipe them away. Next, I take a few minutes to reserve a room at The Wyatt. It’s almost three hundred dollars a night, but I don’t plan to be there long.
After I right myself in the bathroom, change into clean clothes, and put my hair into a ponytail, I quickly wheel my suitcase down the hall. The door to his office is open, but Foster is fast asleep in his chair, snoring loudly. I stop and stare at the man I love. Yes, I admit to myself, I am still in love with him despite the horrible things he’s said and done. I want to jar him awake by screaming at him, but I can’t bring myself to do it, so I quietly leave.
“This is the master bedroom. You can see there are large floor to ceiling windows and a high ceiling. The bathroom is to your right and the walk-in closet to your left,” Erika lists out. I’m not certain what I was thinking when I called William Reeder Real Estate and specifically asked for Erika Elliott to be my agent. Maybe it was because I wanted to get to know the woman who first claimed Foster Black’s heart.
Erika didn’t mask her surprise when she answered my call. When she asked why I requested her, I told her it was rumored that she was the best in the city. Even though my price range was below the clients she usually catered to; she agreed to show me some listings.
“This place is beautiful,” I comment.
“But it’s not like your penthouse. I’m sorry about your marriage, Paige,” she offers sympathetically. “Foster can be complicated.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Erika turns to me, her expression tight. “It depends on what it is.”
“It’s obviously about Foster. You can say no.”
She sighs. “What would you like to know?”
“Why did you break up with him?”
“In a nutshell, he was a spoiled asshole. He got me when I was young and vulnerable.”
“What did he do?”
“He twisted my heart. I loved him, and years later, when he came back, it was too late. It seems he hasn’t changed. Can I ask you a personal question?” Erika counters.
I shrug. “I guess since I asked you one.”
“Why are you leaving him? Is it because his company is in trouble?”
I exhale loudly. “Does everyone know?”
“It’s no secret.”
“I would stay with him even if he were poor. I still love him.”
“Then, why?”
“He changed after we got married. This whole mess has turned Foster into another person, one I don’t care to know.”
“Can you afford this place?” she asks bluntly. “With your down payment, the mortgage will be about twenty-two hundred a month plus eight-hundred-dollar maintenance.”
“I can afford it,” I assure her. “My brother has agreed to hire me. I’ve worked for his company before.”
“Does this mean you are interested?”
This is the third place Erika has shown me today, and I know it was the right one for me. It is safe, and despite its closeness, my family, with its location on the east side of Central Park, I am happy with the location.
“I am.”
“You’ll have to fast track your mortgage papers. They might give you a hard time because your employment is in transition.”
“It won’t be a problem. My brother already said he would co-sign if needed.” I’ve gotten good at lying. I would need to speak to Zane or Lana to see if either one would be willing to co-sign.
“Very good. I’ll start the paperwork.”
“Thank you.”
Once Erika and I are in the lobby, she gives me a quick hug.
“I wish you luck,” she says. “I’ll be in touch.”
We part ways on the street, and while a few stray drops of rain hit the pavement, I walk a few blocks before hailing a cab. A weight lifts from my shoulders. I will soon be free of the mess that is my marriage. Of course, I know I will eventually need to reveal the details of it came to be to my family and friends because it’s the only way I can move forward with my life.
