Chapter 1
[Cordelia]
I never get my husband’s love. He is too busy giving it to others while I’m stuck here watching them, helpless to do anything about it.
Keeping the newspaper firmly in front of my face, I try to seem casual as I take a small sip of my cold, bitter coffee, grateful that I grabbed my gym hoodie, sweatpants and a pair of sunglasses from my car as a last–minute disguise.
I don’t want anyone to recognize me, especially not him. It’s bad enough that rhy marriage is a joke to everyone who knows us, I don’t need to make it worse by making myself look like a jealous stalker.
She must have said something funny because I hear the faint echo of his laughter from across the cafe. I can’t believe how casually he is flaunting his relationship with this…girl. She can’t be any older than me. He’s always saying I’m such a child and yet here he is with a silly blond at least a decade younger than
him.
He told me he couldn’t come to my family brunch this morning because of work. I had to endure listening to my parents judge me because I couldn’t even bring my husband to our once–a–month meeting.
This doesn’t look like work.
A tear falls on my newspaper. Grabbing a napkin I blow my nose quietly, wiping my eyes, and adding it to the pile already on the table.
“I am so sorry to disturb you, Ma’am,” a young male voice interrupts my thoughts. “but if you don’t need something else, I’m going to need to clear this table for a paying customer.”
“I am a paying customer!” I say a bit louder than I intend. A few confused faces look my way. I can tell that some of them want to say something, but they turn away, embarrassed for me.“Sée!” I point at the cheap cup of stale coffee. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to read my newspaper.”
“It’s the funny pages,” he points out, his finger tapping on one of the comics. “And you are holding it upside down.” He then takes a look at my scruffy appearance and asks. “Do you have enough money to pay for that coffee?”
“Here!” I pull a grimy bill out of my pocket and hand it to him. “Now can I…
I look around.
Atlas and the girl are gone.
Pushing past the waiter, My head whips from side to side as I search for any sign of them.
1/3
Chapter 1
+25 BONUS
I can’t find them. They must have taken a car. Slumping onto the dirty, LA sidewalk, I lean against the wall. Removing my sunglasses and rubbing my tired eyes with the palms of my hands I rest there for several minutes, taking deep, long breaths, listening to people pass.
My phone buzzes. I see the words “unlisted number” blink in bright, bold letters again.
This is the 6th “unlisted number” message I have received from the anonymous texter this month. Whoever this unknown messenger is, they want me to see the truth. Maybe it is the blond, doing this to make me jealous, to show off how much closer she is to my husband than I am.
“Miss!” a sharp voice calls out. I turn around to see a snotty–looking concierge coming around the front desk. “You need to check in before entering the hotel.”
I pause after I say my name to give him time to hear my last name clearly. “My family owns this hotel and as an owner, I do not need your permission to be here!
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