CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Hold my calls, cancel my meetings, and donotdisturb me today,” I snap at Lydia the second I walk through my office doors on Monday morning.
She doesn’t deserve my wrath, but I’m running on fumes and can practically feel the dark circles embedding themselves beneath my eyes.
I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours stewing, stuck in my own head, and this is me attempting to regain some normalcy.
Over the weekend, I didn’t allow myself to get on my laptop to research everything I could about the validity of Raina’s marriage or dig deeper into Javier Moreno. I needed to put myself first and try to break free of the negative headspace I was holding myself hostage in.
After spending hours at the gym, and even longer than that sitting at a bar by myself day-drinking, the only things I gained were a light buzz, a killer headache, and a new level of self-loathing.
It wasn’t a good look for me.
I couldn’t shake the pessimism that easily took root in my chest. I ignored every incoming call, and at one point eventurned my phone off, not wanting to speak to anyone or deal with the problem directly in front of me.
For twenty-four hours, I allowed myself to have this adult-sized meltdown in the most pathetically immature way.
The reasonable, logical side of me knows I should have picked up the phone and listened to what Raina had to say. I could still do that. In fact, I should.
Man up, my father would tell me if he was still alive.
Stop being such a pussy, my brother would hound me if he was still earthside.
And I don’t even want to think about what my friends would berate me with.
But I just can’t get past the potential truths I may have to face.
Has she lied to me? Used a fake marriage to her advantage to get close to me?
Do I honestly believe that?
IknowRaina. I know her heart.
That’s not her.
But could it be?Could the woman I’ve known for so long have deceived me? Manipulated me right under my nose?
I don’t want to believe it. Idon’tbelieve it.
But there’s still a small part of me that questions it. The same part that makes me want to gather all the facts that I can on my own before listening to what she has to say.
I’m taking the coward's way out, and I know it.
“Is everything okay?” Lydia asks tentatively, startled by my bad attitude. She stands at her desk but doesn’t try to come around it.
Realizing I’ve been frozen in place, lost in a mental battle, shame rolls over me before I glance at her, then slam my office door closed.
I’m going to owe her a raise and an elaborate apology bouquet after this morning.
When I sit at my desk, I take the phone off the receiver so it can’t ring, then I put my cell phone on do not disturb.
Firing up my laptop, I wait as the home screen powers to life, then bring up every legitimate website I can find on France, overseas marriages, and French marriage certificates—acte de mariage.
I’m so angry at myself for not considering the marriage could be fake. I should have looked into it the moment her file came across my desk and researched the legitimacy. Or demanded to see the acte de mariage myself.
Had I taken those simple steps, this could have been avoided, but because I let my emotions control how I proceeded with this case, I developed tunnel vision.
I purposefully completed and filed the divorce paperwork faster than I normally would have, desperate to get it into the system so she would be released from the marriage as quickly as possible.
