Page 67 of Rainstorm

But hang on a minute, I’m the innocent party here. I’ve done nothing wrong, I don’t have anything to be ashamed of or feel remorseful about. Nothing to regret. If I’ve failed in some way, it certainly wasn’t through lack of effort. I always tried to be the best wife, partner, friend, and lover to my husband, and this dramatic change in our circumstances is not of my doing.

I cover my pain with a heavy mask of indifference and ignore how handsome he still looks. I only wish I could call him mine, but that’s impossible now.

He stares at me as if trying to figure out where I’m going at this time of the morning.

Well, guess what, Chase? It’s none of your business, but for the record I got myself a job.

That’s what I want to yell, but I resist, instead staring back and challenging him to say something.

But all he does is mumble ‘Good morning’, as Gabe, his driver, opens the car door for him, before driving out of the parking lot at speed. I stand there for a moment, picking up the pieces. Pieces of my soul that have been scattered everywhere, as if a grenade has been lobbed at me.

As I drive to work in the heavy freeway traffic, I’m still thinking about him, about the five years of our marriage.

I try to force myself to think about something else, but the radio plots against me, as Jason Mraz sings about not giving up, even when things are rough, when it seems there’s no way out.

Stupid song. I didn’t want to give up on my marriage but I wasn’t given any say in the matter. I know things weren’t perfect but I never saw this coming, not in my worst nightmares.

I try not to cry, not wanting to start my first day at work a sobbing mess with puffy red eyes.

I try not to cry, since being weak and feeble is not an option.

So I force a smile on my face when I arrive, force myself to cope and get on with things.

And it transpires that I’m so busy in my new job that I don’t have time to wallow in self-pity and misery.

My first day passes in a blur, as does the first week.

When Oliver said he desperately needed someone to organize his office, he wasn’t kidding.

The place is a total mess, and it quickly becomes apparent that people are taking advantage of the chaos and lack of organization.

Supposedly professional models with overly generous contracts are wasting time and money, same with the photographers, in fact there’s vast overspending in all areas which is spiraling out of control.

And as for all the unpaid bills I find, I’m actually surprised we still have electricity.

The office is officially a disaster zone.

But I channel all of my personal anger and frustration into tackling this new challenge head on. I head on over to Sawyer’s office and get him to draw up new freelance contracts for both the models and the photographers, as a means of cutting down some of the more outrageous expenses they’ve been running up, and then I set about overhauling the entire structure of the whole company.

Being so busy means I almost forget that Chase is about to receive the divorce counterclaim.

The key word here is almost.

He’s still there, haunting me like a ghost.

Leaving the past behind will be far easier said than done.

???

It’s Monday again.

I had a meeting with the models today to tell them about their new contracts, and they almost cut my jugular when they realized they’d actually have to put the hours in from now on.

Clearly they think I’m the Wicked Witch of the West, but I don’t care. They’ve been allowed to take advantage of Oliver’s easy-going ways for far too long and have virtually brought the agency to its knees.

On a personal level, there have been no further developments.

Sawyer said Chase will have received my counter proposals for the divorce by now, so I’ve been waiting for his reaction, expecting him to make contact, to call or at least email me.

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