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I sat at my kitchen table and twisted my phone in my hands. I had to ask. I sent atext.
I know you’re in Scotland right now, but I have to ask this. Was sheclean?
It was a half-hour before a replycame.
Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think I’d subject you to anything I hadn’t checked out first? Of course she was clean, I even paid for the fucking tests. I’m going to call in a half-hour,okay?
No, I can’t talk right now. I’m about to go into a meeting. I just needed to ask,Ilied.
I switched off my phone, just in case, and then cried again. I grabbed a tissue from my bag and wiped my eyes, took a couple of headache tablets to stave off the raging one I could feel coming on, and stripped out of my clothes. In just my underwear, I climbed back into bed. It wasn’t that I needed sleep; I just wanted the comfort and warmth of the duvet to holdme.
* * *
Imust have sleptbecause I was jolted awake by a banging on my front door. I lay still; pretending I wasn’t in, and hoping whoever it was would go away. I sure needed to speak to someone about how easy it seemed to be to get through the main blockdoor.
The banging persisted. Eventually I heard Jerry call out. I climbed from the bed and dragged on jeans and a t-shirt.
“Jesus, you look like shit,” he said when I’d opened the apartmentdoor.
“Thank you,” I replied, opening it wide to allow himin.
“What’s wrong,Lauren?”
“I feel like I look. Maybe I have a bug coming, I’ll be back in tomorrow, and I’ll catch up on anything I missedtoday.”
“I’m not worried about work, I’m concerned aboutyou.”
“Honestly, I have a ton of shit to deal with, Scott and the divorce. I guess it’s just got me down today. I’mfine.”
He stared at me, not convinced. “Coffee?” Iasked.
He took a seat at the kitchen table while I put the kettle on. I made two cups then joined him. I told him what I’d received from the solicitors, about the division of assets, and what Scott had said thatmorning.
“I guarantee he isn’t rushing to get married, he’s just trying to hurtyou.”
“I know that, and he succeeded. And stupidly I told him a load of shit that I bet he’ll spread all around theoffice.”
“What did you tellhim?”
“That I’d spent the weekend having wonderfulsex.”
“Didyou?”
I looked at him. “You did!” hesaid.
“Don’t for one minute think I’m going to tell you anything. Anyway, if I divide up my assets, because you can fucking bet all of a sudden he doesn’t have any, I don’t know if I can afford to stayhere.”
“So move. It's all a bit…sterile,” hesaid.
“That may well be, but it’smysterile. It was my money that fucking boughtthis.”
“You must be able to arguethat?”
“No, because he paid bills, contributed, and what’s mine is halfhis.”
“I know he has a pension, I see his payslip,” hesaid.
“But how can you divide up a pension, something neither of us gets for another thirtyyears?”
