Chapter Fifteen #2
Tears collect in my eyes. I hold out the three dollars in change I got back from my order. “See this? This is all I have to my name until my next paycheck comes through on Friday. I have a daughter. I don’t… I can’t…”
He nods in understanding. “He keeps your finances separate. Typical.”
Luke’s name gets called by the lady at the counter.
He points to the table. “Stay here, okay?”
I nod, because honestly, I have no idea what else I can do. Go upstairs and confront Cyrus? Pretend nothing happened? Leave now, get Amelia from day care, pack our things, and go… where?
Returning to the table, he sets his order aside. He’s starting to look a bit uncomfortable now. Like he’s made a grave error in telling me all that. Like he somehow feels responsible for me now that he’s pulled me into the fold.
“Do you have a friend you can stay with?” he asks.
Closing my eyes, I cycle through my very short list of friends, most of whom I let slip away after I got married. Would any of them take in a former friend and her rambunctious toddler?
This isn’t happening. It can’t be. “Listen, Cyrus is a lawyer, I’m sure he can get you the money.”
“Don’t you think he would have if he could?” He gestures up. “You want to know what he’s doing right now? He’s looking for another bookie. Mark my words. It’s what they all do. He’s like a drug addict who just lost his pusher.”
“No.” I refuse to believe what he’s saying. “That’s not him. I’m sure he’ll pay.”
“Kenna, I’m sorry. I’ve seen this happen hundreds of times. It’s always the same.”
I wipe a tear as it rolls down my cheek and look up, blinking my eyes rapidly, hoping to stifle the flood I feel forming behind that single drop.
Luke waits as I get myself together, and doesn’t flinch as I ask, “Why do you do what you do? Aren’t you just ruining people’s lives? How can you live with yourself?”
Instead of taking offense, he softens his eyes and lays out some very real, if difficult to hear, truth.
“If I didn’t do it, there are plenty of others ready to take my place.
I’m simply providing a service. And it’s easy money.
” He places his hands on the table, and turns them palms up, the picture of blamelessness and understanding.
“Look, Kenna. There are thousands of people, millions even, who are all looking to make a quick buck. Very few ever do. But they keep doing it because they all believe one day their unicorn bet will hit and all their financial problems will be resolved.” He shrugs, dropping his hands to his lap. “It’s fucking sad, really.”
My name gets called, but I’m glued to the bench. I can’t move.
“I’ll get it.” Luke springs out of his seat and retrieves my order.
I look at the clock on the cafe wall. Ten minutes. That’s all it took for my life to be completely turned upside down. Am I that na?ve? How has this been going on right under my nose the entire time?
Luke puts the coffees and bag of bagels in front of me, then he slips me his business card. All it has on it is his name, phone number, and email address. There is no business or title listed.
I look up. “Why would I need this?” I bite. “I just told you I have three dollars to my name. If you’re trolling for clients, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I have an older sister. She helps people. Women and children in particular. If you’re scared of him. If he hurts you. If—”
“You think he hurts me?” I shake my head. “He doesn’t. Ever.”
Does he?
“I’m glad to hear it. But nobody is a victim until they are. Having a large debt come due can make men do things they wouldn’t have previously thought they were capable of. Kenna, this isn’t my first rodeo. Believe me when I say you should get out while you can.”
I stare at the bag with the picture of various bagels on it, all with eyes and mouths like bagel emojis. My thoughts flash back to a few months ago.
Cyrus was mad. Really mad. Amelia had gone through the baby gate and wandered into his office while I showered.
She got into his desk drawers. Messed up some files.
Drew on some papers. Spilled an old cup of coffee which stained his prized oak desk.
He blamed me for leaving the gate open, and her for the mess.
Said I was stupid and careless. Called her filthy and difficult.
The guilt I felt over it had me making his favorite meals for an entire week.
The thing is, I really thought the gate was shut.
Not only didn’t I have a reason to open it unless I was accessing the storage closet, I swear I checked it every time I walked by.
I knew that was his space. He didn’t want me in his office, let alone Amelia.
Just as he never stepped foot in Amelia’s bedroom, neither of us ever entered his private oasis.
The question I’ve never allowed myself to ask all these months suddenly pops into my head: Did I leave it open? Or did he?
Instantly, a dozen other scenarios flood my head, and I begin to shake as I question the last year of my life.
“Do you love him?” the guy has the nerve to ask.
His words tear through me like I’m being ripped apart by a tornado. It’s the million-dollar question. Do I love Cyrus? Or was he just the nice guy who rode in like a white knight and promised to take care of the down-on-her-luck single mom?
I think I might love him. Or maybe it’s more that I love the idea of being married. Of having someone to help me raise Amelia. But has he? Helped? Because lately I could swear he only sees her as a burden. Maybe now that he owes so much money, he even sees me that way.
“I have to go. He’ll be wanting his coffee.”
He nods to the business card. “Keep it. My sister can help find you temporary housing if you decide to leave. But Kenna, if you do leave, make sure you cut all ties, okay? It’s not enough just to leave.
You need to not be his wife anymore. Do you understand?
For your safety and that of your child, get out and don’t look back. ”