Page 128 of The Publicity Stunt

My eyes scan the sheet of paper over and over again, and it starts to seep in that maybe this isn’t a joke.

It can’t be.Please don’t be true.

I run my fingers over her name, then his name, scratching the spot where his signature is supposed to be. What kind of twisted bullshit is this? He’s married? ToShara?

I’m shaking.

What have I done? The room starts to spin. This doesn’t make any sense. All of a sudden, the image of him kneeling on one knee, a ring in his hand, is branded onto my brain. I lean forward, resting my weight on my palms on the stack of towels. I need to breathe.

My head throbs. I close my eyes.

I can’t believe this.Please let it be a joke. Please, please, please.

I take a deep breath and look at the papers again.

I grab my clothes and walk to the bathroom, stacking the divorce papers back where I found them. I turn on the shower and step into the stall. I run my fingers through my hair, warm water dripping down the bridge of my nose and onto my lips.

I shut my eyes and rest my head against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall and take a few deep breaths. Then I do it again. And again, till nothing works, and before I know it, my back is sliding down the wall. The tears are running down my cheeks. Everything hurts.

I told myself I’d be fine one day. Eight years back, I told myself all this pain would be nothing but a low, throbbing hum underneath my skin.

But maybe that’s the thing about life. As you get older, life gets harder and the past gets longer. The pain gets stronger.

* * *

Thirty-five minutes later, I’m back in his living room. Parker’s still in the kitchen.

I don’t know how to proceed. What do I say? Where do I start? I ruffle the side of my hair with the fucking towel that started it all when I see him lift his hazel eyes to me.

“Hey, Chere. Took you long enough.” He smiles and walks toward me. He wraps his arm around my waist and kisses me, his lips scalding every inch of mine.

“I made us tacos.”

Did she live here with him?

“Do you want to eat on the couch?”

I can’t do this.

“We could also sit on the fire escape if you’d like.”

Parker is married to Shara. He’s her husband.

Husband. The word seeps into my skin, all the way to my bones and I—I can’t do this.

“No,” I blurt out.

He pulls back, his hand still hanging on my waist. “What?”

I look down at his hand and immediately take a step back.

“April?” He reaches up to cup my face, but I flinch and he instantly lowers it. “What—what’s wrong?” I can hear the tremble in his voice.

Everything.

“Nothing, I just, um, I need to leave. I—I forgot I have this thing with Holly tomorrow and I haven’t, um—”

“April.”