Page 40 of Absolution

But this?

Did I drive him to this?

Pathetically, I open my eyes. There's a girl sitting beside me, practically glued to the far side of the car. She's pretty. Young. And just likeher.Bile rises in my throat.

"Are you okay?" the girl asks.

I nod, then whisper, "Talk to me. Please. Just distract me."

She hesitates, unsure, but something in my voice must’ve convinced her.

“I’m moving to Silicon Valley,” she says.

“Oh? Got a job?” I ask.

She laughs, self-deprecating. “No, nothing like that. I’m not smart enough for all that. I’m… well, I was, a model. My boyfriend just got hired out there. So, we’re moving.”

“You quit your job?” I ask, my voice dull, sceptical.

She sees the look on my face and straightens, defensive. “Yeah, but I supported Nate through everything. It’s his turn now to support me. That’s what love is.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “You wanna know why I’m getting sick?”

“I thought you said you were car sick?” she says, confused.

I shake my head slowly. “I came here to surprise my husband. The one who told me not to bother with college because he’d take care of us. I signed the prenup his parents drafted because I wasin love and stupid.” I swallow hard. “Walked into the hotel room thinking I’d find him working.” I blink, remembering. “He was working, alright. A blonde. Half his age probably. Bent over the damn balcony railing.”

Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

“He didn’t even hear me come in,” I go on. “That’s how far gone he was. I just... left. Ran. Booked the first car I could find.” I look out the window, voice going quieter. “That’s why I’m sick. I’m humiliated. And I have no fucking clue what to do now.”

I keep staring at the road ahead, not really seeing anything. “I don’t have a degree. No parents. No job. If I leave, I lose my kids. The house. The only stability I’ve got.” A pause. “If I stay... I die a little every day.”

From the front seat, the driver clears her throat. Her voice is low, gravel-rough, Boston-tinted.

“Screw that,” she says.

We both turn to look at her.

“Men cheat,” she continues. “They cheat on their first wives, their second wives, even the side pieces. It’s not you, honey. It’s that fucktard. They’re so damn empty inside, they think shoving themselves into every hole they see will fix it.”

Silence falls. A thick, brutal solidarity.

We stop outside the girl’s place. She opens the door but pauses when I speak.

“Don’t be me,” I say softly.

She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t get it. Not really. She tosses a half-hearted “Good luck” over her shoulder and disappears.

The car pulls away, leaving me to the sound of my own heartbeat and the low hum of the tires.

The driver was right. He fucked someone else. That’s on him. Not me.

I need a plan. He’s got money, connections, a prenup airtight enough to strangle me in court.

I need leverage. And I’ll find it.

The thing is... I don’t know if this was a break in character or if thisiswho Kyle really is.

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