Page 44 of Rainstorm

A friend.

A true friend.

The bar is still crowded when we decide that we’ve had enough and it’s time to go home. Ariel surely needs to rest since she’s always working so hard, but even though tomorrow is Sunday, she still says she has far too much work to waste her time sleeping in.

I’m worried that she’s going to carry out her threat for me to be her guinea pig all day tomorrow, but she has a dream to fulfill and I can’t refuse to help after everything she’s done for me.

“Thank you for inviting me,” I say as we get out of the cab once we get back. Luckily she didn’t insist on us walking to save a few dollars.

“Just admit that you had a good time tonight,” she laughs. “My friends are awesome, and despite the face you made when you first saw them, you liked them too. Come on, admit it.”

“Yes, I liked them, it’d be impossible not to,” I agree, as they’d all been so kind. However, I can’t help wondering how Ariel met all those people. I’m just happy to see Ariel surrounded by people who care about her; even though I’m pretty certain she’s hiding something beneath those exuberant layers of clothing she loves to wear as her shield.

I hadn’t realized I was tired and still drunk as we stumble on the stairs. Ariel tries to help, but she’s not actually that useful. It’s a case of the blind leading the blind, or rather one drunken lady unable to help another.

“When we make it up the stairs, I think we should toast our success!” She giggles. By some miracle we make it, so I don’t think we should add more alcohol to the mix, as I doubt our systems could handle it.

Water and ibuprofen is what we need.

“I’m going to rest, my feet can’t take anymore!” I flop down in the corner of the small corridor that leads to her apartment.

“Rosie, you aren’t even wearing heels, silly girl,” she points out as we both crack up again. “Do you want me to wait for you? We can take a little break here in the garden, look up at the sky, so many stars...”

“You go ahead, just leave the door unlocked for me, please.” She doesn’t answer, just shrugs and goes ahead as I struggle to get my jelly-like legs moving.

“Roselynn!” I hear someone calling my name.

Oh my God.

That voice.

It’s him.

Chase.

I haven’t even recovered from the initial shock when I turn and see him running toward me, visibly angry.

“Where the hell have you been? Forget it, it doesn’t matter, I’m taking you home!” he yells furiously.

Excuse me? Is he for real? Does he not recall that he gave away any rights to judge me when he told me he wanted a divorce? Plus we no longer share a home to go back to.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I protest vehemently as he tries to grab me under my arms to drag me away.

The alcohol running through my veins makes me brave.

I’m ready for a fight. I’ve been itching for one for days.

I’m eager for one.

And now he’s baiting me.

“Chase, let me go before I start screaming bloody murder!”

“You’re my wife. I’ve been out of my mind with worry, searching everywhere for you like a fucking lunatic. Even your mother wants to come to San Diego to help find you. Did you not even consider any of this when you walked out and disappeared?”

His words suddenly put a heavy load on my shoulders.

“I was your wife, past tense,” I clarify, feeling bad thinking about my parents. Despite disagreeing with my decision to follow my husband, they have always been there for me. But still. “My life is now my own business, not yours. Because may I remind you that you just asked me for a divorce. A fucking divorce. And that was entirely your choice, Chase. Your. Choice.”

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