Page 35 of Mr Garcia


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But then this will just be another failure to add to my life.

My mind drifts back to my worst day. The day I came home sick from work and walked in on my beloved husband having sex in our bed with a girl he worked with.

The way he looked up at me… while he was still inside of her.

My stomach drops. I can still see it so clearly—can still feel the pain of my heart breaking. Still see him running from the room with an erection… for her.

I close my eyes and swallow around the lump in my throat, it’s big and it hurts the entire way down.

At least then I had my dignity.

I inhale with a deep and shaky breath, “You’ll be okay,” I say to myself. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” I wipe a lone tear from my face.

But I don’t know if I will be okay.

This cut is deep.

The door opens.

“April.” The woman smiles.

I grip my handbag and stand. “Hello.”

“Come in, dear.” She ushers me into her office. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you.” I sit down while she goes behind her desk.

“I understand you are looking to transfer your scholarship to Manchester University?”

“Yes.” I force a smile. “That’s right.”

After a week in a hotel doing some serious soul searching, I’ve decided that I’m not letting another man take something from me. This is my dream, and damn it, I’m fucking keeping it alive.

The woman stares at me for a moment. “You do know that Manchester doesn’t have the credibility we have here in London.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t see why—”

“I need to get out of London,” I cut her off.

Her eyes hold mine. “Are you okay?”

“I need to get out of this campus. I can’t be here anymore.”

She stares at me. “Have you been assaulted?”

I shake my head, trying to keep it together. “Please, just organize the transfer.”

“Are the police involved? Can I get a counsellor to spend some time with you?”

“I’m fine. I just had a really bad break up, and I need to move.”

She sits back in her chair and exhales heavily. “Okay.” She types something into her computer. “When would you like to start?”

“Next month.” I shrug. “It’ll take a few weeks to move and get myself sorted.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do you think it will be okay?” I ask. “I mean, do you think I will get in?”

“They’re not at capacity, and your scholarship is transferable.”

“I also won’t be needing dormitory accommodation.”

“Where will you live?” She frowns.

“I’m getting an apartment. Rent is a lot cheaper there.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tonight. As soon as I pack up my room.”

“Has something happened, April? Can I help you in any way?”

My eyes well with tears. Please don’t be nice to me… I’ll lose my shit. “I’m fine but I do need to leave now.” I stand to finish the conversation.

“Well, don’t sign a lease until I get this approved, okay?”

“Thank you.” I give her a weak smile.

I walk across the campus to my room. The classes are on at this time so the hallways are relatively quiet. I want to be packed up and out of here by three o’clock before everyone gets home.

I put the key into my door, and Penelope’s door opens, bringing her into view.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello.” I struggle with the key, eventually pushing the door open to walk inside.

She stands in my doorway, holding the door open. “Where have you been?”

“I stayed with a friend,” I lie.

“Word has it that you’re turning tricks.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Who told you that?”

“Apparently Brandon is heartbroken. He confided in Lara.”

I nod as I get a running picture of events. “And Lara has told everyone.”

She crosses her arms. “Yep…pretty much.”

My eyes fill with tears of shame.

“You alright?”

I press my lips together and shake my head. “I’m leaving.”

“Now?”

I nod.

She walks into my room. “I’ll help you pack.”

She begins to fold my bed linen and take things out of my wardrobe and lay them on the bed.

I stare at her for a moment.

“Well, what are you doing?” she asks. “Don’t you want to be out of here before the gossip columns go into meltdown? You know what these fuckers are like.”

I give her a lopsided smile and pull my suitcase out of my wardrobe.

It’s rare that people surprise me.

“Thanks.”

SIX YEARS LATER. . .

9

April

My phone vibrates on the table as a text comes through.

You up?

I smirk and turn my phone over so that I can’t see the screen.

Penelope holds her wine glass midway to her mouth. “Kill me now. Is that Duke?”

I sip my Margarita. “Uh-huh.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Anna snaps.

I roll my eyes.

Penelope and Anna exchange an unimpressed look.

“If you two like him so much, you can be his booty call.” I smile against the rim of my glass.

“Um, okay.” Penelope widens her eyes as she pretends to pick up my phone and answer it.

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