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Chapter 2 - I Don't Want To Go Home

Emily's POV

The ride home felt endless. Each red light took too long. My phone was face down in the passenger seat.

I got to my apartment, threw my purse on the workout chair, and grabbed my laptop to turn it on and wait for it to boot. Then I opened my drive and searched for the file name April.

Cole and I shared an email account for our expenses and savings.

There were screenshots. Bank statements. Transfers. Everything was from our joint account.

I scrolled down and saw the same account that Cole and I had been saving money in for our wedding, honeymoon, and mortgage on our new home.

My throat closed over as I scrolled.

$14,000

$2,700

$8,300

Every week, there were withdrawals to hotel bookings, visits to jewelers, and restaurants that I had never been to.

Then I stared hopelessly at the balance of $118.43 by the last page until my eyes became blurry.

A big share of that money was mine. Each double shift, each extra hour of overtime—every dollar had been set aside for us. For our home. For our life.

But he had wasted it behind my back.

A loud noise escaped me—more like a cry and scream combined. I covered my mouth with both hands and collapsed to the floor. The tears flowed heavily and made my sleeves wet.

He hadn't just cheated. He'd taken everything.

I wiped my face with my sleeve; my fingers were trembling. Then, I picked up my phone; it was 11:48 p.m.

My third job shift began at midnight.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, jumping up from the chair. I quickly changed; and I drove recklessly across town.

When I arrived, the time was 12:16 a.m. The supervisor was a petite woman named Denise who was standing with her arms crossed near the cash register.

"You're late again," she said.

"I know, I know, please—there was an emergency, I—"

"Save it," she snapped. "This is the third time this week."

"I just found out my fiancé—"

"I don't care," she interrupted. "We can't count on you. You're finished here."

I blinked in stunned disbelief. "Denise…"

She reached deep into the cash register and tossed some folded money at me. "For tonight. Take it and leave."

The money settled to the floor. I gazed at it, my throat dry.

For a brief instant, I considered fighting back. Begging. Explanations. But it didn't matter anymore.

I gathered the bills in silence and left.

The chilly night air slapped me squarely. I sat in the car with money crumpled in my hands to look at. It was all over. My job, my savings, and my fiancé were all history.

"Congratulations, Emily. You've reached rock bottom," I whispered.

I didn't want to go home so I drove to the closest bar and walked in.

The low music that didn't quite fit the silence that was inside me.

I ordered whiskey. Then another. Then something that I didn't even know the name of.

From my corner, I noticed a handsome man in a dark jacket, handsome, slightly past his forties with the quiet confidence that made him stand out in a crowd. He was looking at me, but unlike most men, his eyes weren't roaming.

I smiled and he came over.

"You look like hell," he said after a moment, his voice deep but calm.

"Thanks," I muttered. "You're no ray of sunshine yourself."

That was a lie. He was hot and I didn't want to say it.

"Rough night?" He smiled faintly.

"Something like that," I replied and had another drink.

We had a talk, and then I found myself drooling over him. It had been months since Cole and I had sex. This man was charming; perhaps I could just let it go.

"You shouldn't drive home," he said and I didn't argue. "I'd take you home."

Perhaps it was the drink, or it was the desire to feel anything other than pain. But I followed him.

He helped me stand, and then I drew him to me.

When he pulled away, he looked at me in surprise.

"I don't want to go home," I said. "Can you help with that?"

"I don't think you know what you're doing," he said.

"I'm not drunk," I blurted and then kissed him again.

"In that case…" he whispered, kissing my lips. The warmth of him made me lose my senses.

~

When I woke up the next morning, sunbeams streamed through the window blinds. He was no longer there.

The other side of the bed was cold.

A black card sat on the nightstand with a phone number engraved on it. My hand flew to my face. What had I done?

~

The following day, Cole came to my apartment.

He was looking good, unlike his red eyes and uncombed hair, I had expected him to be. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed the signs. He looked classy in his rich office suit.

"Emily," he whispered.

I didn't budge. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to explain. Please. Could you keep what you saw between us? I need to come out on my own terms,"

The nerve he had to come to me and tell me what to do.

"You drained our account, Cole," I said. "You cheated on me and stole from me, and you're concerned about your reputation?"

He flinched. "How…did you…?"

"Find out?" I completed it for him.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I just—"

"Don't," I snapped, interrupting him. "You said that last time."

He moved closer. "I still care about you."

The spoken words shattered something within me, unleashing my fury. I slapped him hard.

"Get out," I yelled.

"Emily…"

"Get out before I call the cops. You're dead to me."

He froze, his eyes glazing over, then turned and walked away without another word.

When the door closed behind him, I fell apart, collapsed to the floor, and cried until there was nothing left.

~

Three weeks later.

I woke up drenched with sweat. My stomach was churning. I made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up.

The taste was searing down my throat. Sitting on the chilly floor, panting heavily, with hands clutching the edge of the toilet bowl.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered.

I stood up to look at myself in the mirror. My complexion was pale; my eyes had lost all luster; my hair was glued to my face. Then I turned on the tap to splash water over my face. It didn't work.

Then it struck me.

I couldn't recall how long it had been since the last time I had had my period.

I closed my eyes and counted the weeks in my head. My chest tightened and my heart began racing.

"Oh God," I whispered. It had better not be what I was thinking. I couldn't be pregnant. Not right now.

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