Chapter Two - Michaela
Chapter Two
MICHAELA
“HONEY, I’M HOME,” I say, not expecting an answer when I open the door to my condo. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s home. 201 East End Ave, Apartment 13E checked all my boxes when I moved to NYC two years ago: Upper East Side, low fees, over 400 square feet, at least one bedroom, and parking. Settled on the thirteenth floor, it has incredible views of a park and the river from the living room and a private balcony. I was ready to sign the papers when I stepped inside.
The condo is cozy ; that’s how Mom describes it anyway. It isn’t Nina’s four-thousand-square-foot penthouse at the Plaza. Yes, you heard me. The Plaza . New York City landmark hotel where "nothing unimportant ever happens." That Plaza. Not long after signing the paperwork on the New York office. The whole thing seemed fitting, really (very Nina), Nick wasn’t kidding when he nicknamed her Princess.
When she decided to purchase a house in New York, Nick had initially been against it. “We don’t need this, Nina,” he said.
“You’re right, but I want it, so I’m gonna get it,” Nina argued. I was sure Elizabeth and I were about to witness their first argument as a married couple. “Besides, you’re gonna say no to that view?” The view was pretty spectacular, the 18th-floor condo had fourteen windows with unobstructed views of Central Park.
“Nina…”
“You get to live in The Plaza, Nick. It’s like being the real-life Eloise!”
Nick shared a look with me, pleading for my help, but I shrugged. What did he want me to do? The girl had already made up her mind.
“Don’t look at me; I’m team Nina,” Elizabeth said when he turned to her.
“Our kids are not growing up in New York, Davina,” Nick finally conceded.
“Don’t be such a downer.” Nina rolled her eyes, but Nick was unamused. “Besides, what if you get the job at that firm in Chelsea?”
Unsurprisingly, Nick had gotten the job in Chelsea, but what was surprising, he turned it down. He didn’t want to move to New York, not really. He was happy accepting the job in Charlotte, where he wasn’t far from his new wife and their home. Nina wasn’t happy about it, she felt like he was missing out on a great opportunity, but Nick still refused. It didn’t matter though, a year ago he took over the Architecture and Development department at Villa Inc.
So no, my condo isn’t The Plaza, but it’s more than some of the two-hundred and some square feet ones I had seen. Besides, it has doubled in value in the last two years — I could easily afford to upgrade, and David wanted to, but I’ve grown attached to the little shoebox overlooking the East River I call home. The kitchen is stuck in the 1970s, but I recently bought new stainless-steel appliances, and I plan on repainting the cabinets and replacing the hardware to make it look more up-to-date. What sold me was the walk-in California closet and large bedroom. I can deal with an outdated kitchen as long as I have some breathing room. I don’t see the point in selling, David spent the majority of the last year in Washington D.C. since he got the job with Barnes and we—
Wait, did I leave the bedroom light on?
I don’t think so.
No, I’m ninety-seven percent sure I did not.
What is this suitcase doing here?
And, this box filled with…
That. Fucker.
“You’re kidding me.” Pushing the bedroom door open, “You can’t come in here when you feel like it. You don't live here anymore." Standing like a thief caught in the act…David. “What are you doing here?"
“It’s my condo too, Mic,” he says, tossing a box of hair trimmers into the moving box. He’s never used them. They’ve sat in the box since I bought them months ago. “I’m allowed to stop by and check on the place.” He rummages through the nightstand drawer. “Look, I’m not trying to fight, I just came to get the rest of my stuff.”
“The rest of what stuff? This is my condo and my shit. You haven’t lived here for three months.”
“So, these are yours?” He holds up the trimmers.
“If you want to be technical, yeah. I bought it.”
“Oh, come on, Mic. Don’t be childish.”
“I’m gonna ask you once, nicely, get the fuck out of my house.”
How did we get to this point? Fighting over pointless shit like hair trimmers. Things had been okay. We were happy, at least that’s what I thought… There had been some rough patches, but we were making it work. We even got married last August.
“Michaela, I’m sorry,” David says, his face pulled into a frown as if it hurts him to see me. I flinch when his thumb grazes my cheek. “I never meant to hurt you.”
I try to fight the longing when he cradles my cheek, involuntarily leaning into his touch. A smirk on his lips fades into a small smile. I know better than to trust the doe-eyed man in front of me. I know the game he’s playing, but it has been so long, and I’m feeling exceptionally lonely today. Without warning, he crashes his lips to mine, a moan mingles between us.
I should’ve gone to Nina’s.
David squeezes my ass before pushing me on the unmade bed. I whimper as his lips leave a blazing trail along my neck. A warm hand finds my breasts under my shirt, no bra to protect the sensitive skin of my nipple from the assault. His teeth graze the skin of my neck. He better not leave a mark. The last thing I want to do is explain to Nina why I have—
“Attention right here,” David tsks, and his fingers fist in my hair bringing me back to our current position.
“Fuck you, David.”
“You already are, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear, the words spreading goosebumps across my body.
This is a terrible idea and only going to cause more problems. It definitely won’t help fix things and it won’t make me feel better. But, his mouth is moving in the right direction and… “Stop.”
David freezes. “What do you mean stop ?”
“We’re not doing this.” I shove him to the other side of the bed. “Get out.” I fold my arms over my chest refusing to look at him. I should’ve stopped him when he kissed me. But, I…I miss him. No matter what happened, I love loved him and it has been hard to let go. For the past two months, I’ve been telling myself I don’t love him, I can’t love him because he isn’t mine anymore. Looking back, I’m not sure he has been for a while. Even if I thought there had been a chance of saving this, coming home from Italy to divorce papers made it clear there wasn’t. It only reaffirmed he had gone to Italy intending to tell me it was over and there was nothing I could’ve done to stop it. We spent almost two weeks together on a romantic getaway only for him to end our marriage on the last night there. Tonight is a reminder I have to let go.
David scoffs and readjusts himself before pulling the hair trimmers from the box he’d been packing. He tosses them on the dresser — the clatter sending a shock wave through my system — and stops in the doorway. “I’m done playing these petty games of yours, MJ. Sell the condo and hand over the ring.” My thumb absentmindedly traces over my left ring finger — the indentation still there. “You’re making this harder than it has to be. Do us both a favor and stop being so difficult for once in your life. I’m ready for this to be done and over with.”
The way he talks about us breaks my heart all over again. I’m ready for this to be done and over with as if we meant nothing to him. As if our relationship (our marriage) — and ending it — was another task on his to-do list he’s been putting off.
I cringe when the front door slams and make a mental note to call a locksmith.
Bright red numbers glare in my face — 7:47 AM — I have exactly thirteen minutes to get ready and leave for the office. The room begins to spin, a blur of orange and cream and green, and a wave of nausea floods my senses when I sit up. I want nothing more than to call Caitlin and tell her I won't be in today, that I must've picked up a stomach bug. But, if I do that, Nina won't have to wait a month for me to get my act together, she'll fire me on the spot. So, I better show up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on time today.
"Fuck," I groan. We have a big meeting this morning and I have no idea how I’m going to get through it. After David left, I spent the night hugging a bottle of white wine on an (almost) empty stomach. When I finally dragged myself to bed, I had three hours until my alarm was set to go off. Admittedly, probably not my best idea.
Coffee.
I need coffee.
And ibuprofen.
Maybe some Gatorade.
Definitely some food. Something greasy to soak up the remnants of last night.
The sun casts a bright light through the condo — not good for a walking hangover — which means today is a glasses, no contacts, kind of day. The empty wine bottle sits on the white coffee table next to a vase of dehydrated daisies, mocking me. The TV still binges “The Office” and my black knitted blanket is strewn on the floor. The comfy scene calls to me, it sounds so much better than a boring meeting with… Who are we meeting today? I don’t even remember. Nina was the one who set it up last week.
“Be on your best behavior,” she had warned me when she called about it. How happy is she gonna be when I walk in today?
I push forward. There is no way I can miss this.
Hot water dribbles into the coffee pot, and I breathe in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, trying to suppress the nausea still crawling at the back of my throat. A glance at the clock tells me I have six minutes before I need to leave. God help me, today is going to be a long day.
The shades of Nina’s office are drawn per usual making it impossible to determine if she’s gone or ignoring the knocking on her door. Bella had pulled me from my meeting with Nina to handle a vendor issue and it took longer than expected, which meant Nina had to end the meeting with the Adlers. I have no idea what happened. I knock one final time before opening the door to an empty office. Well, at least I know she’s not ignoring me.
Closing the door, all eyes quickly avert their gaze. I subtly check myself — everything is in place. The hushed conversations make it seem like everyone is trying to be respectful of their colleagues, but it’s pretty obvious the chatter is not about work. What in the hell is everyone talking about? If one more person looks at me like that, I’m going to…
“If you all have something to say, go ahead and say it,” I snap when I catch the eye of an intern before she quickly looks away. "If not, I suggest you get back to work. And, if you don’t have something to do, let me know — we have plenty of work that needs to be done.”
The silence is deafening.
“Okay, everyone.” Cait steps out of her office. “Enough. Let’s get back to work.” For a brief moment, they stare at her before returning to work. She gives me a smile and motions me toward my office.
“What is their problem?” I hiss.
“You really want to know?” Caitlin asks closing the door, and I wait expectantly. “Bella told a few of them about the little disagreement she walked in on yesterday, between you and Nina.”
Shit.
“I guess everyone thinks you’re on shaky ground. I mean, can you blame them? If it were one of them, they would’ve been fired a long time ago.” She’s not wrong. Nina has given me a few too many chances, and it’s finally catching up with me. “You’re a good boss, Mic. You need a little more structure.”
“I’m working on it, Cait. A lot is going on right now, but I’m trying.”
“I know you are.”
“Who’s that for?” I motion toward the stack of samples in her hands.
“Grace. I want to get ahead on some of these projects, so everything is a little less hectic while you’re gone.”
While I’m gone? Am I going somewhere?
Caitlin opens the door where Bella stands, her hand raised to knock. “Oh! Hello, Bella.”
“I tried to phone you, but you didn’t answer,” Bella says past Caitlin. “Your mom called. She wanted to remind you about the party for your dad and Uncle next weekend.”
“Fuck, I forgot,” I sigh.
“She said you would, that’s why she called.”
“Did I book that flight?”
“A while ago.”
“I need to buy them something, I don’t even know what to get. What do fifty-something men want?”
“To see their daughter and niece,” Caitlin answers. “You haven’t been home in almost a year, so I think seeing you would be a gift enough.”
I haven’t seen much of my family since the wedding last year. Normally, we’d split the holidays between our families, Thanksgiving with one, and Christmas with the other, but last year we were in Richmond for both.
“I’ll just ask Elizabeth, she’ll know what they want."
Caitlin rolls her eyes. “I’ll see you ladies later, Grace will have my head on a platter if I even think about being late.”
I don’t bother with a response as she closes the door behind her and Bella. When I open my phone, I find unread texts from Alex, Nick, and… David.
David? What in the hell does he want now?