Page 144 of The Sinner: James

“I feel bad things unraveled the way they did,” she says.

“Don’t be…” I smile bitterly. “There was no other way. We were all too miserable, and we wanted out. I just made it easier for everybody else. This way, they had someone to blame it on, and it was all good in the end.”

Moments of silence tick by.

“How’s work?” she asks.

“Shitty.”

“Even with your new boss?”

“Yup. It’s worse now. I miss my old boss. At least she was fun and liked to chat about books, and there was so much stuff we could talk about. Candy, on the other hand, is always in a bad mood, and you can tell she hates her job. I can’t blame her, though. She used to make good money in a high-fashion store. Compare that to selling books to nerds like me.”

She chuckles.

“It’ll get better.”

“I hope so,” I say, although I don’t believe it.

I had to cut back on food so I could pay rent.

So yeah, I don’t have much hope.

“Going to school is better than this crap,” I comment.

“I’m not so sure,” she says, somewhat pensive. “Any news about your book?”

“Yes. It collects dust on the shelves. Nobody wants to read a book about ancient Rome when people would rather watch cats online all day?”

She laughs.

“What’s wrong with the cats?”

“There’s nothing wrong with them. How do you think I know? I’m one of those people.”

“You should’ve written a book about sex in ancient Rome,” she suggests.

“Mm-hmm… That’s a good idea. Too bad I was still a virgin when I wrote my literary opus.”

She giggles, sneezes, and coughs for a few moments before blowing her nose.

“Fuck this...” she says, sounding like her head is underwater. “I’m so fed up with it.”

She blows her nose again.

“Anyway...” I continue in a serious voice. “I can’t pay my bills with what I’m making with my book. And the way things are now, I won’t get out of this place anytime soon. In the meantime, I’m looking for a job that pays a little better, but there aren’t many options for someone without much education or solid work experience. The job interviews I’ve had led to nothing. So seemingly, my ‘princess days’ are over,” I add with self-deprecating humor.

We laugh, although we’re both bitter about it.

The silence thickens as Eve reads right through my act.

“I’m sorry, Rain,” she says.

She means it.

She really does.

And I know it because we’ve discussed it so many times.

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