Chapter 126

As soon as the words leave my mouth, regret rushes through me, stretching out from my heart to every square inch of me, even my fingers and my toes.

“We’re just friends…” I try to correct, but it comes out weaker than my previous statement. I might be in shock.

The security men finally break me through the wall of reporters and help me to my front door. They stand behind me as I unlock and open it, then wish me a good evening, even though their expressions are somewhat grim.

Working in the news industry and having heard what Hugo said, they likely know my error. I wasn’t supposed to say anything but no comment.

I blew it.

“Thank you,” I tell them. “Have a good night.”

They wait until I close the door, then, through the peephole, I watch them walk back the way they came. The reporters don’t bother them as they re-enter the SUV. Then they all drive away.

I wonder what Hugo is thinking. He must be disappointed by my weakness.

On the surface, I suppose I didn’t say anything too wrong. Saying Miles didn’t mean anything to me was a lie, but still played into our denial. Except, the callous way I said it makes it seem like Miles isn’t even my friend, which directly counters what he said in his statement.

I really messed up.

“You are back,” Garnar says from the hallway.

Nodding, I try to pull myself together, not wanting to be a mess in front of the girls. “Is everything okay here? How are the girls?”

“We turned off the TV, but they aren’t stupid, Esther. They know what you did, same as I do. Same as your parents.”

My stomach drops. Oh, God, I hadn’t even thought about Mom and Dad. “Have you heard from them?”

“No. But I can imagine.”

I can, too. Dad shaking his head. Mom covering her eyes. If they haven’t reached out yet, though, they aren’t likely to. They’ll expect me to clean up my own mess.

I am working on it.

“The reporters should start backing off soon,” I say. “Miles and I both release statements. Soon, their attention will be drawn to some other scandal.”

“Let’s hope so, for all our sakes,” Garnar says, glaring. With that, he turns and walks away. I kick off my shoes, hang up my jacket, and follow him into the living room, where our daughters are playing games. They look up when I enter. Violet comes to give me a hug. Iris looks back at her game.

With the television off and the blinds and curtains closed, I’m able to pretend the entire day didn’t happen until well into the evening.

After the girls have gone to bed, Garnar clicks on the television. Immediately, a picture of Miles flashes onto the screen. It hurts to look at him, so I turn away.

Lowering my head in shame, I drag myself into my bedroom, where I barricade myself behind my locked door and finally try to calm down after a long, arduous day.

I take the longest shower of my life. Standing under the hot water, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Even if I can’t quite quiet my mind, my body at least is soothed by the steady downpour of water beating against my tired muscles.

When I come out of the shower, I pull on my most comfortable pajamas and crawl into bed.

Closing my eyes, my body relaxes, but my mind stays wide awake until well into the night.

The next morning, the two security guards return to my front door. Hugo isn’t here, but the guys insist on taking me to work. There are still a lot of news vans outside.

I accept their offer.

At work, I keep myself busy all day, trying desperately to ignore the fresh chatter of my co-workers.

My impromptu statement to the press last night has caused waves, apparently newsworthy enough to be printed.

Out of curiosity, I glance at one article. The headline reads, Owens Denies Friendship With Rep. Hamilton. My heart sinks down to the ground. I never meant to imply that! However, denying it now isn’t likely to do me any favors.

I worry what Miles thinks, though. Will he know I was pressured to say something? Or does he think I’m genuine.

Wildly, I consider messaging him. But would that only make things worse?

For now, I wait.

A note from Hugo slightly lifts my spirits. Wait for it to blow over. And it will.

If he can see the end of this, then so could I. Since I trusted Hugo’s judgement, at the very least, I could out hope this would be over soon.

Other than the continued whispering, the day proceeds normally enough.

The security guards take me home. This time, feeling numb, I am able to totally drown out the shouted questions. I make it to my door without saying or feeling a single thing. After thanking the security guys, I close the door and breathe.

After spending the evening with my daughters, I return to my room. There, my phone starts to ring. It’s already 9pm. Who could be calling me this late?

My heart picks up speed. Maybe it’s Miles.

Grabbing my phone from my purse, I check the caller ID. Cynthia.

I exhale, overcome by disappointment. Immediately after, I feel like a real asshole. Cynthia is my friend, and it’s never a disappointment to talk to her. I answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Esther,” Cynthia says. She sounds kind of nervous, the words slightly stunted. “You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I assume you saw what I said to the reporters yesterday. I feel like an actual idiot. You don’t think Miles took it badly, do you?”

Cynthia is quiet a moment. That’s so odd for her that worry starts to nag at me.

“Cynthia?”

“You haven’t seen the news,” she says.

“What news?”

“Look at the Harbinger homepage. Make sure you are sitting down when you do.”

“You’re scaring me,” I say.

When Cynthia doesn’t reply – doesn’t laugh and say, I got you – I grab my laptop out of my workbag and sit down on the bed.

While I wait for the laptop to boot up, I ask, “Is it really that bad?”

“I’m here for you,” Cynthia says. “I hope you know that.”

“I do… Did someone die?”

“No one died,” she says, so that’s a relief at least.

When the computer fully boots, I open a web browser and type in Harbinger’s URL.

“You are sitting down, right?” Cynthia asks. “Your laptop is resting on something solid.”

“Yeah? Cynthia, you are being weird.”

“You’ll understand in a minute.”

As the website loads, I’m immediately greeted with a picture of Miles standing beside a slender brunette woman. She looks vaguely familiar but I can’t quite place her. From how she’s dressed in a little black dress and expensive jewelry, I can guess she travels in the same high society circles as Miles.

Scrolling down, I notice the woman has a sizeable rock on her finger. Knowing she’s engaged cools whatever jealousy had been beginning to form inside of me.

I scroll down further.

Then stop.

Everything stops.

The whole world stops.

The headline reads, Miles Hamilton Engaged.