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Amy pulls out the calendar like she was waiting for someone to offer up more of their time. “I have next Tuesday and Wednesday both open since Cole quit.”
“Without notice?” I ask. Amy and Maureen nod in unison. “Wow. Must be nice to be able to do that.”
Amy cackles, but covers her mouth as a customer walks by.
“What was that for?” I ask, feeling like I’m the butt of a joke.
Maureen and Amy share a look that says I should know what they’re talking about, but neither of them actually say anything. I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“Seriously,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“You know, you don’t need to be here,” Maureen groans like she shouldn’t have to say it. “You have a husband who works enough for the both of you.”
“And a nice house that’s almost paid off, according to you,” Amy adds.
I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “I still have to take care of everything,” I say in my own defense. “I’m a full-time mom and I work here sometimes.” They both look like they have more to say, but I blow out a breath and smile since Amyismy boss. “Speaking of being a mom, I need to get my groceries and go pick up Spencer. I promised Rachel I wouldn’t be gone long.”
“Sounds good,” Amy says, placing the calendar back on the counter in front of her. She doesn’t mention anything more about the extra shifts next week, and I’m glad because I’m not sure if I’m in the mood to give them any more of my time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Maureen says, reapplying her happy, squeaky voice.
“Don’t spread your legs too quickly tonight,” I say before walking away.
Yes, it was a cheap shot, but it made me feel lightyears better that I got the final word in.
It takes me a mere twenty minutes in the store to complete my grocery list and get things loaded into my tote in the back of the car. Nick and I argued over this tote multiple times, saying it was pointless for me to use since I can pull right up into the garage at home. I proceeded to snap back at him and say that since I’m the one that hauls groceries from the store, he doesn’t get a say in how they transfer from the trunk to the kitchen counter.
My blood boils as I think back on all of our stupid fights. All the times he’s nit-picked at me and I’ve come back with something viscous to say in return.
Always something about the way I handle the house or the kids.
Ugh. The kids. The screaming, sassy, filled-with-attitude tiny humans.
“How is this my life?” I whisper as I slam the trunk closed and climb into the front seat. I let the car sit with the engine running for a few minutes before I pull out of the parking lot, glaring toward the store as if Maureen and Amy can see me.
“How is this my life?” I ask again, feeling the emotion welling up inside me. I turn down the street and head for the highway. “I can’t believe this is where I’ve ended up.”
The bewilderment is setting in strong as I look around at people walking along the sidewalk. “I bet your husband is home for dinner. I bet your children don’t scoff at you when you ask them to put shoes on in the morning.” I have imaginary arguments with strangers as I make my way down the road.
My eyes are burning with tears and fatigue as I keep driving. I turn onto the offramp and hear a bunch of commotion, but my mind is cluttered with self-pity.
“I wish this wasn’t my life,” I hear myself say.I can’t believe I actually said it out loud.I can’t truly mean that.
But I hear myself say it again. “I wish I had a different life.”
I wipe a tear from my eye and change the radio station using the voice activation system.
When the song changes, I adjust my sunglasses and find my eyes migrating toward the passenger side window.
And all I feel is sudden sharp pain. I hear an uproar of screaming. followed by the awful crunching sound of metal on metal.
Chapter three
Trinity is a Stripper Name
Myeyesflutteropenand I can sense the overpowering smell of cheap perfume. The black and red blankets that are draped over my naked body tell me that I’m laying in a bed that doesn’t belong to me.
Where the fuck am I?
