Chapter 3 - TWELVE WHITE ROSES
"Happy anniversary," Alex said. Then he looked at the date on his watch. "A day late. Sorry. Things have been nuts."
He kissed the air beside my cheek. His cologne was the same. For a sick second, I wanted to lean toward it.
"You didn't come home," I said.
"The client dinner ran long."
"Which client?"
"Erin." He sighed. "Come on. Not today."
He set the roses beside the ones already on my desk. Twenty-four white blooms, all of them looking absurdly innocent.
Then he slid a black leather cardholder toward me. "Buy yourself something. Take Laura shopping. Get that purse you showed me."
"I showed you a photograph of my mother."
He blinked. "What?"
"The purse was in the picture. I was showing you Mom on her wedding day."
"Okay. Sorry. I got it wrong."
He took a call before the silence could settle.
I heard Victoria's voice through the speaker for one careless second. "Alex, my stomach hurts. If you won't come, I swear I'll get one of those male models from the gym to carry me around."
He lowered the phone immediately.
"I'm coming," he said. "Ten minutes. Don't move."
When he hung up, he was already reaching for his keys.
"Hotel emergency," he told me. "A client got sick."
I watched the lie arrive in his mouth as easily as his own name.
"Five minutes," I said.
"Erin, I have to go."
"Five minutes of your life. Just sit down."
He glanced at the door. "Why are you acting like this?"
Because I had washed a tiny pair of socks in the kitchen sink. Because I had imagined him crying when he saw the ultrasound. Because he was scared for a woman who had just threatened to call male models, but couldn't remember which day we married.
I opened my desk drawer and pulled out Laura's copy of the petition, the one she'd told me to keep out of sight until service.
I made a choice I would regret. I threw the pages at his chest.
"There," I said. "You don't have to wait for your party."
Paper scattered across the carpet. Alex looked down, then at me.
"What the hell is this?"
"Divorce. I know about Victoria. I know about the baby."
His mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Then: "You went through my phone?"
"I heard you. At the suite."
He looked almost relieved to have something to accuse me of. "You were spying?"
"You were talking about moving her into our home."
"It's my family's estate."
"I know whose name is on the gate. I also know who lives there."
He stepped around the papers. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you. You turn everything into a scene."
"You were going to hand me divorce papers at a baby party."
"Lower your voice."
"No."
He bent to pick up the folder. I reached for it too. We grabbed opposite ends, and the leather caught under my thumb.
"Let go," he said.
"Alex, you don't get to—"
He shoved my forearm away. Hard.
I didn't fall all at once. My heel slid against a sheet of paper. I tried to catch the desk and missed the corner by inches.
The back of my head met the marble edge outside my carpeted work area.
There was a sharp, ugly sound. Then the room went sideways.
I could still see Alex standing over me. One white rose had landed between his shoes.
"Erin?" he said.
I tried to answer. My jaw wouldn't work.
His phone rang again. VICTORIA flashed across the screen.
He looked from the screen to me, took one step back, and said something I'll never forget.
"You always do this at the worst possible time."
May you like
Then he walked out.
As the door swung shut, I saw the little red light above my office's security camera blinking.
