Page 17 of I’m Already Gone

The urge to bang my head against the wall was strong. It seemed I was destined to be stuck here all night, putting out more fires. Again. And unfortunately, none of this could wait until morning.

“I’ve got this, Ethan.” Marcus’s assurance was firm, but it did little to squash the rising tide of dread in my gut. “I’ll keep you posted.”

He gave a curt nod and exited, the door clicking shut behind him. Even if I wasn’t the one flying out, I still had to play defense on my end, coordinating and strategizing while he was airborne.

I looked at Emma. She was staring at me with empathy. She knew. We both knew. It was definitely going to be a long, brutal night. But as I looked at her, at the quiet, resolute set of her shoulders, I understood. She wasn’t going to let me navigate this alone.

And for that I was grateful.

Lily

“Another glass, ma’am?”

Three glasses. Three glasses of expensive Pinot Grigio as my only company.

My husband had stood me up on my birthday at my favorite Italian restaurant.

I let out a short, sharp breath. “No, thank you. Just the check, please.”

The young waiter gave me a look of pity.

“I am so sorry, ma’am.”

“Check, please,” I repeated.

He nodded quickly and retreated.

I glanced down at my purple silk dress, the way the light caught the diamond cupcake-shaped pendant with our children’s birthstones. A gift Ethan bought me last year. Last year, when he loved me. Last year, when he showed up.

But now? I felt a hot flush of anger rising up my neck. I’d spent three hours getting a blowout, making sure my makeup was perfect, and I’d worn the new shoes that I’d bought a few days ago, which were already digging into my arches. All for what? For this? For him to stand me up on my birthday, leaving me here to feel like a complete fool? I wanted to scream until the crystal shattered, but I had passed the point of tears.

I had let myself believe that we could slide back into the old rhythm when he promised he would try. But tonight proved to be another lie. He didn’t show. He didn’t even text. Not one lousy text message or a freaking call.

When the waiter returned, I didn’t even glance at the total. I slid the credit card across the linen tablecloth.

My phone vibrated in my purse. I pulled it out to see Ebony’s name on the screen. Before she could even utter a greeting, the words flew from my mouth.

“He stood me up.”

She let out a strangled sound of disbelief on the other end. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No,” I spat.

God, I wish I were.

“What the hell has gotten into him?!”

It was the same question I’d been asking for months, desperate for an answer that would make sense, that would allow me to move past this festering wound. But all I ever got was false promises.

Ebony’s voice hardened. “I’m coming to get you and we’re going out. We’re going to get gloriously, messily drunk and celebrate you.”

I snorted. All I wanted was to curl up in a ball and let the tears come, but the anger was a dam holding back the flood.

“Thanks, but no. I have somewhere else I need to be.”

The black sedan finally came to a stop at the curb. I thanked the driver and pushed the door open, stepping out onto the pavement. I made my way to the main entrance and pressed the intercom buzzer.

A moment later, the internal camera confirmed my identity, and the latch clicked open. Charlie, one of the usual guards, recognized me immediately. A broad smile broke across his face.