Page 2 of Temporary Vows

At first, when she fell behind on payments—and Marcus started hounding me down to pay—Clara called to let me know she’d take care of everything.

She was full of apologies, so no way would I think I’d be standing here today in this position whereI’mthe one who has to pay her debt.

And on top of that, I learned she scammed me.

Scammed me big time. After she went off the radar, I found out Clara forged my signature and added more money to the loan. Taking it from eighty thousand dollars to two hundred. Even now, I’m still trying to wrap my head around how she was able to borrow that much. My guess is the loan sharks knew I’d get suckered into paying it back.

That was bad, but to add more salt to my wounds, I found out the grandmother Clara supposedly took the loan out to save had died two years ago.

She paid the initial installment and nothing more.

I’ve been paying the loan for the last six months. And I now have nothing left. All my savings are gone, and the last of the trust fund my dad left me dried up months ago because of this loan.

I’m behind on Marcus’ payment because I had to get my piece-of-shit car fixed so I could still get to my two jobs. Now I’m stuck.

A cold ache tightens behind my ribs, sweeping through me like an arctic chill.

“What am I going to do?” I whisper, my voice trembling against the hum of the fridge.

My phone screen dims, and the silence around me stretches, sharp and suffocating.

For the first time since this nightmare began, the truth settles like a stone in my stomach:

I’m in trouble.

Big, big, deep, deep,trouble.

I’ve run out of ideas.

And Marcus, the bastard he is, will punish me by adding his extortionate penalty fee to the arrears. Last time I was late—when Clara officially went MIA—he added a thousand dollars to the bill. It’s almost time to pay again. God knows what he’ll do this time.

I already owe eight grand. By next week, it will be twelve.

I hate to resort to begging, but I’ll have to call my brother. Jack is going to lose his shit when he hears what I’ve done.

Things are bad enough as it is. They’ve been bad for the last eight years. Since Dad died.

First, our family business went under, then we lost most of our inheritance paying off Dad’s creditors. Jack and I ended up with next to nothing.

I almost thought I was crawling out of the hell hole I’d landed in when I got the job at the school. Then I spoiled it all by getting mixed up with Clara.

At least if I talk to Jack, maybe he’ll help me come up with a solution. Or help me.

I don’t know.

The door swings open, and I jump, almost dropping my phone.

Beth, the supervisor, stands in the doorway glaring at me, pissed as fuck. Her toad-like face looks extra haggard when she’s mad.

“What are you doing in here?” she barks in a tone more fitting for a prison guard. “You should have been back on the floor ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry.” I straighten and try to gather myself.

“We’re up to our eyeballs in customers, and you’re in here resting?” She plants her hands on her hips and taps her foot like an old-school marm—pure Miss Trunchbull fromMatilda.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You better be,” she sneers with a face like thunder and whirls around.