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“Food first, talking after.”
Thankfully, the waitress stops by with chips and salsa at that moment, saving me from having to elaborate. We both order the two tacos lunch special and a water, even though now that I have to tell Lauren what happened, that margarita sounds even more tempting.
“Jake just got engaged.”
“What?” Lauren chokes on the chip she just ate, thumping her chest and coughing while her eyes water. I don’t say anything, just nudge her glass of water closer and wait for her to recover.
“That tiny-dicked fucker is engaged? To who?”
I swallow, not wanting to say it out loud. “Some girl. I don’t even know her name, but she posted a photo of him proposing and said they’d been together for two years. Two. Fucking. Years.” I take a long sip of my water to stop the tears that threaten me. I refuse to cry over Jake.
“Wait…” The mental gears are turning in Lauren’s mind, I can see it on her face.
“Exactly. I thought it was a one-time thing when I saw that receipt for the flowers, remember?”
Lauren nods. “Of course I remember. I still can’t believe that fucker was dumb enough to use your account to order them for someone else. Did he really not realize that you’d get the confirmation email, with his note attached?”
As dumb as it sounds, he really was that stupid. When the confirmation email first showed up in my inbox I’d purposefully ignored it, not wanting to ruin my own surprise. But when the delivery confirmation email arrived and I had no flowers, I’d gone to check and make sure he’d gotten my work address correct.
Imagine my surprise when the flowers I assumed were in celebration of our anniversary had this note attached.
Last night was amazing, can’t wait to do it all over again next weekend. Love, Jake
The next weekend. The weekend he’d told me he was going away for a golf trip with the boys. The golf trip that I’d written extra articles to pay for.
Yeah. There’s a reason that was the last straw in our marriage.
“It gets worse.”
“How can it get…no. Tell me it’s not what I think it is.” Lauren’s normally tan skin goes pale.
I hesitate, then rip it off like a Band-aid.
“If you’re thinking that the new fiancée is pregnant, then you would be correct.”
She stares at me in stunned silence. Saying it out loud is worse than just thinking it. Makes it real. Makes it something I can’t just pretend never happened. Especially now that I’ve told Lauren. “Oh my God. Soph. I don’t…” She swallows hard. “I don’t know what to say.”
The way her voice cracks on the last word is what breaks me. Tears fill my eyes and spill over before I can stop them. Dabbing at my cheeks with a napkin, I’m too worried about stifling my sobs to notice Lauren’s gotten up until her arms are wrapped around my shoulder, hugging me tight.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to pluck his balls off and feed them to him. No, I’m going to cover his ball hair in honey, then set a swarm of bees on him. Wait, no I have a better idea, I’m gonna hire a hitman to pull a Game of Thrones on him, except he’ll start by plucking his ball hairs out one by one. Then he can cut off his junk and feed it to him in a hot dog.” Lauren’s muttered plans for revenge wash across my head as she holds me. The last one gets a wet and disgusting laugh out of me.
“I got the text right before Sutton picked me up. I turned my phone off and gave it to him to hold onto for me. I haven’t looked at it since. I don’t know if I can.”
“Do you want me to look for you?” Lauren offers. “Hang on.” She pulls her phone out and taps a few buttons before holding it up to her ear. “Tina? Hi, it’s Lauren from Content. Hey, Sophie isn’t feeling well, I’m going to take her home. You’re okay to cover the rest of the day, right?” She pauses for a moment, listening to whatever Tina is saying. “Thanks Doll, I’ll let her know. I’m sure she’ll be fine in the morning. “
Putting her phone back in her purse, Lauren catches the waitress's eye. “We’re gonna need a couple of margaritas.”
Nine
Theo
I need a fucking drink.
And a shower. I haven’t left the office since the limo dropped me off last night. After Sophie practically threw herself across the limo to get away from my touch, I walked into my office and started working on the medical file sharing program that sparked in my imagination last night.
Thanks to the private bathroom attached to my office, I was able to freshen up this morning. When Mercedes found me passed out on my office couch this morning, she tossed a spare change of clothes on me and pointed to it. At least she took pity and got me a coffee from the fourth floor, handing it to me before going over the day’s agenda.
Yawning, I look at my calendar, not seeing anything vital for the afternoon. “Mercedes,” I call through my open door. Knowing it will take a moment for her to walk over, I start tidying up the papers strewn across my desk.
