Try is the operative word here. But since my extremely well-trained bodyguards go wherever I go, she never makes it. Her fingers don’t even come within inches of me, and my security detail deals with her with such efficient speed that I wasn’t forced to slow down or break my stride for her.
Women like her just make me more impatient because they only remind me of how the only woman I want is still not mine.
One day at a time, Everford.
Just take this one fucking day at a time.
On the sixth day, Reynolds finally visits me at my office.
"It's done, sir."
He's been in contact with the lawyer we've hired to represent Nicole, but Reynolds has also made sure that no one will be able to trace anything back to me. It's better and cleaner that way.
However...
The tone Reynolds uses has my guard up.
“What’s the catch?” I ask curtly. “Does he think he can get money from her?”
“Our contact says he wants to speak to Ms. Nicole if she wants him to divorce her on the grounds she’s chosen.”
Chapter Eighteen
"WHAT ABOUT THIS?" HEIDIgestures to the dress that's really pretty...and pretty expensive, too. "Or this?" She gestures to the pantsuit that's just as pretty...and pretty not much me, since I've never worn a pantsuit my entire life, and it doesn't seem right that I'd start wearing one now, of all days.
I look at Heidi and Judy, feeling rather helpless, and the two of them look at each other like parents trying to silently strategize on how to break the truth to their little girl that Santa doesn't exist.
The thought almost makes me smile. I think it's because of how everyone's been so nice, that even though I'm forty-two, they make me feel like I'm fourteen instead.
Today they want me to look good for my meeting with Sandy. I appreciate that, really, but...
I clear my throat, and when Judy and Heidi look at me—
"You just want the shirt and jeans."
"I just want the shirt and jeans."
We end up speaking at the same time, and while it does make all of us laugh, it also has me wondering, rather wistfully and apprehensively—
How can this be real life?
Everything just feels so surreal but at the same time terrifying and undeserved. Like this very instance, I'm inside a fitting room of a private boutique in a hotel, the kind that you can only book by appointment and where all the clothes on display are already preselected for your size, and they also serve the most delicious little cakes and a refreshing array of drinks while you look for the perfect outfit, the perfect bag, the perfect everything really.
I look at myself in the mirror, and my reflection is another miracle. I think—no, actually, Iknow—I look so much younger now, less stressed, more relaxed.
I also know it's all because of...him,and that’s why...
When I remember how I once asked myself if I would turn back time if I could—
I couldn't answer it then, but I can answer it now.
And I think I'll have to say...no.
Not even if it's just to avoid being assaulted.
Because if that didn't happen, then I wouldn't be able to meet Judy and Heidi. If that didn't happen, I would still take my safety for granted. If that didn't happen, I would miss out on knowing just how much he—
Knock knock.