Page 72 of Lost Room Lawyer
Of course, it was all just a game to him. Pure pleasure! I knew it, but I didn’t want to believe it. And like a complete idiot, I even told him I’d fallen in love with him.
So damn stupid.
The moment I found out about the callboys, I should have pulled the plug. Hector had been living this double life for years. Did I secretly hope he would give it up for me?
What was I thinking?
The self-criticism was useless. The knot around my chest tightened. I felt so dumb. I could have slapped myself, but I didn’t have the strength for that.
The phone vibrated in my back pocket, so I pulled it out and glanced at it. A message from Hector appeared on the lock screen.
“Please, let me explain.”
I shoved the phone back into my pocket.Explain what? What could he possibly explain to me? He’s married.
Twenty minutes later, I dragged myself up the stairs to my apartment, my legs feeling as heavy as lead. I felt miserable and desperately wanted to cry. But not here. Not in this stairwell where someone might see me. So I fought my way up to the third floor, trying to ignore that I was just a shadow of myself.
When I reached the top, I pushed the apartment door open and slipped into my room. Standing in the middle, I had no idea what to do with myself. I stared blankly ahead, feeling utterly lost and confused.
“Hey,” Dominic whispered behind me. “You’re back. Wait… are you still wearing the clothes from the funeral?”
My head dropped, and a tremor shook me as I gasped for air. Yes, I was still in those damned black clothes from the funeral. Black—the color I hated most. And suddenly, I knew exactly what I had to do.
I tore off the sweater and fumbled with the belt, as if the clothes were a foreign skin I couldn’t shed fast enough. Off went the shirt. Off went the pants. When I stumbled, Dominic was there to catch me.
“Easy now. What happened?”
Agitated, I kicked my pants and stepped back from Dominic. His warm hands on my cold, exposed skin was overwhelming. I backed away and wrapped my arms around myself. In just my boxers and socks, I stood before him, unable to meet his gaze. I was freezing and felt unbearably alone.
Dominic stood about six feet away from me, making no further attempt to come closer. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?”
“With …” I winced and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “With Hector.”
“Oh … and … will you tell me what happened?”
Just trying to organize my thoughts stirred the chaos in my head, so I looked up. The pain I saw on Dominic’s face only made me more confused. “I can’t,” I forced out. It hurt too much.
“You spent the whole night with him?”
I clenched my teeth and balled my hands to fists. A sudden sensation jolted me, as if I’d been touched out of the blue. “Shit. I need to take a shower,” I choked out, rushing past Dominic as I disappeared into the bathroom.
I stood under the hot water for what felt like forever, crying. Eventually, the sharp cramps inside me subsided, and the thick, humid air allowed me to breathe again. Ultimately, it was the heat around me that made it impossible to turn off the faucet. I remained under the water, staring at the wall, focusing on the warmth while pushing everything else aside to avoid spiraling into a panic. Yet, the sense of terror kept rising within me.
My mother is dead.
Hector loves his wife.
There’s no way I can go back to the law firm on Monday!
Never again!
My heart raced, and I was on the brink of hyperventilating. I had no tears left. After forty-five minutes, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my swollen, reddened eyes, when I heard a soft knock on the door.
“Dude!” I heard Dominic say. Shortly after, he peeked through a small gap in the door. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer him. He had eyes in his head too.
“I have to go. Last day and all that. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
