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“Did you take it?” I ask slowly.
“No. I rejected it,” he says fiercely. “How can you even ask me that? They wanted me to stop advocating for human rights, and I said no. I would never consider it.”
“Oh.” My heart deflates to learn that not only is Thomas a fake activist, but he’s also a liar. I was there when the entire plan was orchestrated, but if I hadn’t, he would have fooled me.
“I miss you, Francesca,” he says. “Can we meet up for a minute? I just need to see your face.”
An angry retort rises up my throat, but then I stop it right before I hurl it at Thomas. I need to see his face, too. Thomas has been lying to me all the time we’ve been together. He knows the type of guy I was looking for and put up a facade to fit into that category. Even now, he still lies to me about the job, saying he rejected it when he accepted it without hesitation and then got rejected because Valentino wanted to be petty.
I need to see his face while I tell him that it was my husband, Valentino, who ordered the CEO of the NY Times to call him. I want to tell him I don’t feel anything for him anymore, not even friendship, and he’d be better off not calling me anymore.
“Okay, Thomas. Let’s meet at the coffee shop in Westside.”
“Where we used to go on our dates?” he asks eagerly.
“Yes, see you there in two hours.” My voice sounds cold and aloof, but when he replies it’s with excitement.
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I hang up knowing that today I will write the ending of the story of Thomas and Francesca for good. It is not a good ending, but it is the right ending. People who are silly enough to build their castles in the sand must eventually be disappointed.
Louisa calls me while I am in the car heading to Westside.
“What time are you coming? I’m already at the shopping center,” she says, then squeals. “Check out this onesie. Have you seen how cute baby clothes are?”
I giggle. “I have. I saw some online and almost drooled all over my phone.”
“So what time are you coming here?”
“Give me an hour.”
“An hour. Where are you?” she asks.
“I’m on my way, but I have to stop by somewhere first.” I hit the button to put up the partition. “I’m going to see Thomas.”
Louisa gasps. “What? Are you stupid? Are you cheating on Valentino? With his baby in your belly?”
“Relax,” I laugh, surprised at how hard she’s going for Valentino. “I’m just going there to end it forever and put him in his place. I want him to know that the charade is up. I know he’s been lying to me all these years.”
“Oh, okay. I see. But do you have to go to him?” she asks worriedly. “What if Valentino finds out? You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. You’ve both been so happy; I can’t help but worry.”
“Louisa, I’m not going to keep this a secret from Valentino. He’ll be happy to know that I’ve got Thomas out of my life for good. Thomas has been getting so brave. Lately, I’ve been afraid that one day he’ll call me when Valentino is there, and I won’t be able to explain. Or he’ll send one of his dreadful “I miss you” texts, and Valentino will read it. I can’t ever risk that. Especially, since he disgusts me now. It was all a lie. All of it.”
“Okay. You’re right. Putting an end to this dead relationship is a good thing. It’s time for a fresh start.”
“Yes.” I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I won’t be with him for more than a few minutes. I need to look into his eyes while I say these things.”
“Alright, girl. See you.”
“See you.” I hang up the phone and my fingers itch to send a surprise I love you text to Valentino. I haven’t told him yet, but it gets harder to keep it to myself each day. My plan is to tell him over a lovely meal that I’m going to cook myself. I’ll have lots of candles and flowers to make it all romantic and special. As soon as I get Thomas out of the way, I have nothing to worry about anymore.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on my partition as the car swerves sharply to the right, sending me to the other end of the seat. Valentino always warns me to use a seatbelt for this very reason. I snap the seat belt around my midriff and hit the button to lower the partition. The car swerves again, and this time, I panic.
There’s panic in the driver’s eyes, and his knuckles are white around the steering wheel. “What’s happening?”
“I can’t use my hands because I have to get us out of here,” he says urgently. “But I need you to get your phone and call the Boss. Now! We’re under attack!”
“Under attack?”