Chapter 5
I did not go home.
Maya, my best friend, came to the hotel and picked me up.
She brought sneakers, a hoodie, and the kind of rage that makes people speak slowly.
When she saw my wrist, she froze.
There was a red mark where Daniel had grabbed me.
“Did he do that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re photographing it.”
“I’m tired.”
“You can be tired while documented.”
That was Maya.
She took photos.
The wrist.
The restaurant table.
The proposal pages Daniel threw on the floor.
The email.
The ring in my purse.
Then she drove me to her apartment in Brooklyn.
I slept on her couch in borrowed clothes.
Not really slept.
Every time my phone buzzed, my body jumped.
Daniel called twenty-eight times.
Then the messages started.
You embarrassed me.
You slapped me in public.
You made me look crazy.
You don’t understand how men think.
Lawson wanted more than business.
Come home and we’ll talk.
I forgive you.
That last one made me sit up.
I forgive you.
I stared at it until Maya took the phone from my hand.
“Nope.”
May you like
She placed it face down.
“He doesn’t get to forgive you for surviving him.”
