Page 4 of Broken Bonds

“You need to find out what’s going on with your husband, Stella.”

On shaky legs, I get up to look through the cabinet drawers where the television sits. I’ve seen some business cards in here before.

“We’re going to clear this up right now. I’m going to call their office and they’re going to tell me where Lionel is. This has to be a mistake, Mom. A big one.”

When I turn the cabinet upside down, a framed photograph falls out, mocking me. Lionel and me at City Hall’s stone staircase, smiling, after the happiest day of my life. In one hand I’m holding a red rose bouquet that Lionel surprised me with, while he had his arm raised in a sign of victory.

All that seems like a distant memory.

I feel like someone else, someone strange, is telling me the story of my life, and I’m watching in horror from the sidelines.

Dammit, Lionel, who are you?

I cling to the small cardboard placard in the same way that I do to what little hope I have left.

I take a deep breath before I dial, the first attempt failing. I hit the green button and wait for someone to answer. It rings, and rings, and keeps on ringing.

“The door was open.”

I glance up and meet Valerie’s worried face, her red hair awry, tumbles around her pale complexion.

“You’ve already found out.”

Like my mother, it seems Valerie ran out of her house to come to mine at full speed. Ali is the most impulsive person I’ve ever met, but also the most loyal and optimistic. She pushes me to act because I tend to be an overthinker. All the kinds of craziness I’ve gotten myself into by letting her take the lead, my teenage years would have been boring otherwise.

My mother looks at Ali almost rolling her eyes. She’s never liked her, thinks she’s a bad influence. The truth is that without Valerie’s support, I don’t know where I’d be. She’s the only person who knows all my secrets. She’s also the one that encouraged me to take some classes at the local university. I actually followed her advice and am more than happy that I did.

“I’ve been trying to reach his office, but no one is answering the phone,” I explain.

“That’s what the internet is for.”

I’m far from being tech savvy. It was Valerie who convinced me to open up an Instagram account. The same one in which Lionel is addicted to. Each one of our milestones is proudly published there, from photos of our first date to our wedding, to even a few days ago when we went out to dinner and took a walk alongside the river.

Everything is properly documented on the web.

Another of my husband’s obsessions.

“Here’s the number,” she squeals proudly, showing me the flat screen of her phone. “Let’s call.”

I hug the thick robe over my body, using it as a shield, bracing myself for what’s to come.

“I’m looking for Lionel Kral, one of your sales representatives.” Valerie frowns “Are you sure? His name is Lionel Kral, Kral with a K.” More tortuous silence. “I understand… yes… thank you, ma’am. Sorry.”

She ends the call and closes her eyes.

“Please tell me, Val…” I beg.

“Stella.” Valerie takes my hand, and looking straight into my eyes, she finally says, “They don’t know anyone by the name Lionel Kral. Babe, I’m so sorry.”

My lungs compress, and I gasp for air. My chest feels so heavy, it constricts my airways.

“No. That’s not true, it can’t be true. Lionel works there, I’ve called the number on the card before.”

I hand the card to her. Valerie looks at it for a moment, then snorts. “This isn’t the same number I called, Stella. Anyone can do this with the help of a computer and a good printer. This may be part of the deception.”

Deception? Deception for what?

I have no money. Why would a rich guy go to all this trouble? An easy lay?

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