Page 187 of White Lies

Come lunchtime, we’ve hired a receptionist to start on Monday, and I already have two apartments to look at after work. At nearly four, Sara pokes her head into my office. “Delivery,” Sara says, setting a large envelope on my desk.

I stare at the handwriting on the front that is clearly Nick’s and let out a breath. “Thank you.” I look up at her. “I’m looking at apartments tonight and going to buy some clothes.”

“Don’t feel rushed. I have clothes, and we have the space.”

“I know you mean that, but I think I’m going to rent a hotel room until I find a place.”

“That’s not necessary. You know that.”

“I do. I really do, but honestly, you and Chris are so damn wonderful together, I can’t take it. That sounds horrible. I’m sorry.”

“It sounds honest. Do you want me to go shopping with you?”

“No. Last night I needed you badly, and you were there for me, and I can’t thank you enough. Tonight, I need to be alone.”

“I can fully understand that, but if you change your mind, our door is open.”

“Thank you.”

She disappears in the hallway, and I stare at that envelope, my throat constricting. I throw it in the trash. I pull it back out. I throw it in the trash. Damn it, I pull it out and open it. Inside, I find my favorite paintbrush with a note.

Faith:

I came to you looking for answers to questions I didn’t even know I needed to ask. I found those answers in you. Paint me. You’ll get your answers, too, because there is only one answer: Us.

I’m coming for you, and I’m doing it with proof that I don’t want anything but you.

I love you,

Nick

I read that note over and over:I’m coming for you.And he will, and I’m going to send him away, no matter how much I hurt all over again.

…

My first Tuesday without Nick…

I wake in a hotel room and order room service. When my coffee and omelet arrive, I eat it alone. Alone is safe. I forgot that. I won’t forget again.

Bill tries to call me about a dozen times. I ignore him. It’s probably not fair, but I feel angry at him for telling me what I needed to hear.

…

My first Wednesday without Nick…

I don’t order room service, but I walk to work and stop in at Rebecca’s and get coffee. I carry it with me to my desk at Allure. I drink it.

Alone.

I end the day with a text from Josh. He’s wiring me my twenty thousand dollars minus his fee. I don’t reply. Bill calls me. I don’t reply. When he sends me a text, Idoreply:I need time.

I say nothing more.

…

My first Thursday without Nick…

I have settled into my hotel, bought a frugal wardrobe, and found an apartment a few blocks from the gallery that has an upstairs perfect for a studio. It’s an expensive rental, but I need a space that I can make mine.