Chapter 3

    He hands over his card to the waiter, who quickly swipes it through and gives it back.


    “Sir, I don’t think—”


    Before I can speak, Anderson returns the card to his pocket. “Goodnight, Esme. I hope your paperwork is sorted out shortly.”


    “But sir, you don’t have to—” I’m sputtering, but he holds up his hand to stop my sentence again.


    “Enjoy your night.”


    Anderson then walks out of the bar alone, and I can’t help but stare in disbelief at the man as he disappears behind the walls. What the hell just happened?


    That was all so weird, and I’m struggling to find any words to say now that I’ve been left alone at the bar.


    It takes another few seconds, but Annie and Lily come rushing over with bright eyes. I can tell the two are ready to start interrogating me for what happened between us, but in truth, I don’t have any words for them.


    Instead, all I can do is gesture with my hands at what is before me. The necklace, the drink, and my confusion are all present. 


    I want to tell them I don’t know what happened, but I think my face is saying that enough. Because I don’t know anything. This was all just…random?


    Lily, snickering to herself, mimics Anderson under her breath with her large smile. “I’ll pay double.”


    “What did you say to him?” Annie pushes, and I just shrug. 


    “Oh, come on! He walks in here and hands you some fancy jewelry and then hands over his card without even knowing what you’re drinking. That was him clearly flirting!” Lily says dreamily.


    “Hardly,” my voice croaks.


    “How many men would come into this bar and do the exact same thing, though, Esme?” Annie insists. “That man just swept you off your goddamn feet!”


    I look at the door where Anderson exited, wanting to ask him what is going through his head. But that’s the issue. Now he’s left again, and I’m left wondering what this day has turned into.


    A fucking fiasco, for sure.


    Later, after finally getting Lily and Annie to let me leave the bar and return home, I climb into my empty bed.


    Alone for the first time in years, I feel helpless over my foreseeable future. It’s hard to judge whether things will be good or not with Ryan already pushing and shoving his way out the door. 


    What am I supposed to do about all of this? Today should have been perfect. Ryan could have swept me off my feet, and we could have had a romantic dinner together, shared gifts and kisses and laughter, and enjoyed ourselves. Instead, here I am, holding back tears against my pillow.


    I got a promotion, and on my birthday at the age of 30, I’m about to lose my marriage. What’s worse is I’m still childless, which causes my heart to strain. I don’t want that label. I don’t want that hell.


    Now, I’m going to be the divorced single woman everywhere I try to go.


    Or, maybe, a single, divorced career woman.


    Though, that seems to be even more stressful than the divorced woman label.


    Groaning and rolling over to get out of bed, I realize that sleep shall continue to evade unless I do something about it.


    Grabbing my wallet and a light jacket to cover my pajamas, I finally exit my place, trudging downstairs and out into the world to fix this incredibly horrid headache and insomnia.


    Around the corner from my place is a 24-hour convenience store. Maybe the clinic will have the meds I’m looking for. Regardless, I’m so over this day, and I just want to sleep and have it be tomorrow.


    The best way forward is through, after all.


    I shuffle into the clinic, making my way to the medication section. I tend to pick up whatever the strongest medications happen to be on the shelf.


    I shuffle into the next aisle to grab a large bottle of water to take with my meds. As I get to the front of the store to pay for my supplies, I hear a voice I recognize.


    “Is this the right one, you think?” He asks another person nearby.


    I stretch my neck, seeing the one person I’m desperately trying not to think about.


    I see the short haired blonde first, and I’m surprised to see Ryan standing in the aisle just to the left of me. Then, I hear a second voice.


    “Maybe we get this one,” she replies.


    I narrow my eyes, and as I thank the man at the counter, I walk over to the two people.


    It’s Ryan alright, but the person he’s with?


    My cousin, Melinda. With her picture-perfect beauty and her short black hair pulled into a pathetic excuse for a ponytail, I look at the two of them down the aisle.


    And the object they’re talking about is a fucking pregnancy test?


    “You really had to do this to me, didn’t you?” Melinda complains as they pick up another stick to examine. “You couldn’t have used protection before you got the divorce?”


    “Babe, it’s going to be fine because we’re going to be divorced soon! Esme—that fucking stupid woman—she’s got no idea about us! Besides, she’s got significantly more savings than I do, and soon, we’re going to inherit a fortune!”


    “You better hope so, dumbass,” Melinda groans as she turns the pink box over in her hands. “This is stressing me out.”


    “Look, we’ll inherit the money, we’ll be rich, and you and I will be together. You should get pregnant immediately, unlike Esme. She can’t even have kids!”


    I feel my heart turn cold, my skin burns, and my anger blinds me. This bastard! This whole time, I thought our main issue was over not having children!


    My fingers strain around the bottles I hold, and a million different things cross my mind to screech at these two people; people I trusted!


    This entire marriage has never hindered kids; it’s only ever been for Ryan to divorce me and take my money! That spineless, pathetic piece of shit.


    “Melinda! What the fuck?” I screech at the two, giving away my position. “I can’t believe you got into bed with him!”