Page 15 of King of Manhattan

The world feels like it's spinning off its axis as I sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling slightly as I hold my phone. Vince's words from yesterday echo in my head, a haunting refrain I can't shake.

"He won’t be a problem anymore."

I close my eyes, willing the memory away, but it persists. The look on his face, a mixture of guilt and fear, as he laid bare the full extent of his criminal activities. It was like listening to the plot of a movie, not the life of the man I thought I was falling in love with.

A sob catches in my throat, and I swallow it down hard. I can't afford to fall apart right now. I need to think, to plan, to...to what? What do you do when you find out the person you've been sharing your life with is essentially a crime lord?

I should have known. A part of me did know, but I didn’t want to admit it. I knew he maybe had some shady dealings, but this?

I need to get out of here.

The thought hits me with such clarity that it momentarily cuts through the fog of confusion and hurt. I need to leave New York, to get some distance, to clear my head.

But first, I need to make a call.

I unlock my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number for the attorney I work for. My finger hovers over it for a moment before I hit 'call'.

It goes better than I could have hoped for.

"I need to take a sabbatical. It's... it's a personal matter. I know it's short notice, but-"

"Emily," my boss interrupts gently, "you've been with us for three years and I don't think you've taken more than a long weekend in all that time. Whatever you need, we'll make it work. How long are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," I admit. "A month, maybe two? I just... I need some time."

"Take what you need," he says, and I can hear the concern in his voice. "Is everything alright?"

"It will be," I say, hoping it's true. "Thank you for understanding."

After a few more minutes of logistics - promises to email some case notes, assurances that my cases can be redistributed - I end the call. It's done. I've taken the first step.

Now for the hard part.

I spend the next hour in a flurry of activity, pulling out suitcases, rifling through drawers, trying to decide what to pack for a trip with no fixed return date. It's easier to focus on these mundane tasks than to let my mind wander back to Vince, back to yesterday.

As I'm folding a sweater, my eyes land on my laptop, and suddenly I know where I want to go. Paris. The city I've dreamed of visiting since I was a little girl. A place so far removed from New York, from Vince, from everything.

I open my laptop and navigate to my credit card rewards page. Over the years, I've accumulated a substantial number of points, always meaning to use them for a big trip but never finding the time. Well, I have the time now.

It takes some doing - juggling dates, comparing flights - but finally, I have it. A one-way ticket to Paris, leaving tomorrow afternoon. The finality of it sends a shiver down my spine. This is really happening.

As I resume packing, now with a clear destination in mind, my phone buzzes. It's a text from Vince.

"Emily, please. Can we talk?"

I stare at the message, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. Part of me wants to respond, to hear his voice, to let him explain again as if somehow the words will be different this time. As if somehow it will all make sense.

But I can't. Not now. Not yet.

I set the phone aside without replying and continue packing.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of preparations. I email my landlord about a short-term sublease, call my parents with a vague explanation about a last-minute work assignment in Europe, and try to tie up as many loose ends as I can.

It's late evening by the time I finally allow myself to stop. I sink onto my couch, surrounded by packed bags, and for the first time since last night, I let myself really feel.

The tears come hot and fast, sobs wracking my body as I curl into myself. I cry for the relationship I thought I had, for the future I'd started to imagine. I cry for Vince, for the good man I saw beneath the charming exterior, the man I now wonder if I ever really knew.

With a sigh, I wipe my tears away. Maybe this is what I need. A fresh start, a new perspective. A chance to process all of this.

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