She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Instead, she stopped on a nearby bench and dug out her nicotine gum. After popping three squares into her mouth, she chewed hard, hoping to flush out the anger. As she chomped down, the fury morphed into sadness.Just like that, I’m dismissed and sent on my way.
While she sat there mashing the hell out of the gum, she imagined going back into Justice, up to the executive level, and demanding to know what the hell was going on. But she would never do that.
She typed the address into the map app on her phone and enlarged the location.This looks like a warehouse.Now, she was full on perspiring. She was going in blind without her Glock.
Pushing off the bench, she walked up Pennsylvania Avenue and around the corner to her favorite coffee shop. Her next destination could wait a few more minutes while she bought herself what might be her last cup of coffee.
While waiting for her order, she scanned the eatery.Oh, no.Their eyes locked, but she didn’t smile. She would be polite, but that was it.Please don’t come over.
Jim Reynolds, known as Jimbo, pushed out of his chair and hurried over. “Hey.” He started to hug her, but she stepped away.
“It’s been a while,” she said.Three years to be exact.
“What brings you in here?”
What a stupid question.“Guess.”
He barked out a laugh. She always hated his laugh. Forced and shrill. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Fine.” That was the extent of her politeness. She had zero interest in making chit chat with her ex-husband.
“This semester has been a real bitch.” Jimbo was a history professor at George Washington University. “How’s your business doing?”
“No complaints.” While married, she had always wished she could tell him the truth about her career. But as she stared into his dull eyes, she was relieved he knew so little about her.
“I’ve had you on my mind,” he said as he shoved his hand into his jeans pocket.
“Well, it is that time of year.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, then awareness flashed across his face. “Right. I try not to think about that.”
“That? She wasn’t a ‘that’. She was our daughter.” Glancing back, she hoped the barista would call out her name.
“I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to call you. I’m in a twelve-step program and wanted to apologize to you.”
“Okay.”
“But not here. Maybe you’d have lunch or dinner with me sometime.”
“I don’t need an apology. I was sorry enough for both of us.”
He nodded. “I understand and I don’t blame you. I’ll give you a call. Same number?”
“Really, you don’t have to.”
“I get it. I was—”
“Providence,” called the barista.
“Gotta go.”
“Good to see you,” Jimbo said. “You look great, by the way.”
Providence collected her cup and left. On the way to her car, she unbuttoned her jacket so the April breeze could wick away the heat. Her marriage had ended terribly and she had walked away with a broken heart and a shattered life. She had zero interest in having any conversation with her ex.
As she slipped into her vehicle, she paused to sip the drink before starting the engine. “Thank God I’m not married to him anymore.”
Providence didn’t want to get caught up in the past, so she pushed him from her thoughts as she pulled into traffic, heading toward the unknown.
