"Nancy."
Nancy shoved the brown parcel into her bookbag and arranged an answering smile. "Hey."
"You still on for tonight?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Nancy smiled. "You said this was the hottest club ever."
"Yeah, well," Mariah said. "It's not like I ever see you that much once we get out."
Nancy had the grace to blush. "I know," she said. "But it'll be different tonight." At least for a little while, she thought. Who knows, after that.
Once she came back to her room she plugged in her cell phone and took the parcel out of her bookbag. Bess had enclosed a note, which she found when she opened the front cover.
What to Expect When You're Expecting.
She hadn't been able to find an English copy, and didn't want to go through translating when she was huddled, miserable, in her bed. So Bess had been kind enough to help her out.
She sighed. Her cell phone chimed, notifying her that she had received a text message, and she checked it. Carlos wouldn't be able to make it, but he wanted to make sure she would take his raincheck for the following evening. Just the two of them.
Nancy smiled.
After replying that she would definitely take him up on that, she took a quick shower and dressed in a soft black cashmere turtleneck and graphite slacks in low slingback heels. She was just lining her lips when her phone rang.
"Hey George," she greeted her other best friend.
"Hey," George said. "How are you doing?"
"Pretty good," Nancy said.
"Still getting morning sickness?"
"Not this week so far, thank God," Nancy sighed, staring at her reflection. "It's only a matter of time, though. How are classes?"
"The usual," George grumbled. "Torture. How much longer are you gonna be gone, again?"
"A month or two," Nancy replied, smiling slightly. "Not that long. I'm going out tonight, gonna try to forget all this school stuff."
"Is he gonna be there?"
"Not tonight," Nancy admitted. "But tomorrow. Might get some one-on-one with him."
"Oh," George said, and then grew quiet.
"What?" Nancy asked, her eyelashes fluttering against the mascara wand.
"Do you never... I mean, do you not even miss Ned?"
Nancy had not heard his name in a while. She rested her fingertips on the countertop, then walked back into her room and dropped into her desk chair. "I do miss him," she admitted quietly. "I wish things had gone differently."
George was quiet for a moment. "I was just wondering," she said. "You two were together for so long."
"Yeah, well," Nancy said. Then she cleared her throat. "I need to finish getting ready, so..."
"You're not mad, right?"
"I'm not mad," Nancy said. "I'm not. I'll call you when I get back to my room, all right?"
"Sure, you do that," George said.
They were all at the club. But George's question had put Nancy in a bad mood. Instead of dancing with any of the very appreciative guys around her, Nancy sat at their table and nursed a glass of orange juice.
"Where's Carlos?" Javier asked, taking a break to breathe after a round on the floor with Cessette. "I don't remember ever seeing you without him here."
Nancy forced a faint smile. "He couldn't make it tonight," she said.
"Well, then, you have to give me a dance," Javier said, shooting her a grin.
"Okay," Nancy said. "If you say so."
Mariah was dressed in an almost obscenely short fringed silk slip, her hair in a riot of curls, staring adoringly at the same guy she had been looking at that way for the past week. Nancy felt a sudden rush of jealousy, watching them together over Javier's shoulder. He was making the normal soft small talk, and he was a wonderful dancer, but she still felt the same unease.
"Nancy," Javier said softly, and Nancy looked up into his face. "You miss him, don't you."
"Yeah," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I'm not any fun tonight."
"Hey, not even I can be fun all the time."
Her stomach flipped slightly. "Thanks," she breathed.
The taxi dropped her off at her apartment near eleven. She walked in and stripped down to her underwear almost immediately, pulled the elastic out of her hair to let it fall on her shoulders. When her face was still gleaming from a brief thorough scrub, she walked over to the lower drawer on her desk and opened it.
After a long moment she closed it again, leaving the long-silent music player still inside.
--
"Nancy, I know you wanted to do something... bigger."
Nancy looked up from her notebook, tucking a strand of red-gold hair behind her near. "Well, if you have anything that needs doing?"
"It's not much, but it would be a big help to me if you could cover a press conference for me tonight."
"Really?" Nancy gazed up at Susanne, disbelieving. "I mean, I'd love to."
Susanne smiled at her gratefully. "Good," she said. "I knew I could count on you."
"Maybe I could bring Kath along, too? Get her some experience too?"
"No problem," Susanne replied. "But I want your notes on my desk at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, all right?"
"Sure," Nancy said, grinning.
Once Susanne had left, Nancy was still coasting on the high that her news had given her when her cell rang. "Hey," she said, pitching her voice low.
"What time do you want me to come by for you tonight?"
Nancy opened her mouth to reply, then gasped in a breath. "I have to work tonight," she groaned. "Susanne is letting me cover a press conference, she can't do it."
"But," Carlos said, then trailed off.
"I know," Nancy said.
Carlos had thought Nancy was gorgeous from the first time he'd met her, but the mutual interest that had been obvious to everyone else had only come out a week before, at the group's favorite club, when she noticed that he was no longer splitting his attention between her and three other girls. Just her. Dancing until her feet hurt like hell, but she was exhilarated. She felt more alive, with him, than she had since Ned had confessed to her. But their timing so far had just never quite worked.
"I know, but maybe we can do something," Nancy said. "I mean, tomorrow it's Friday, we won't have class or work this weekend, I'm sure we'll be able to get together."
"Yeah," Carlos said. "I really, really hope so."
"What do you have in mind?" Nancy teased him.
"Enjoying having you alone for once, Drew," Carlos replied.
Nancy sipped in a breath. "Yeah," she said, softly.
--
There was nothing to the press conference. Not really. Nancy showed up with a notebook, looked over the suggestions Susanne had made about questions she could ask, listened to what the other reporters asked. She also remembered her microcassette recorder, to catch the more rapid questions and answers for translation later. Sometimes, after a day of classes, she could feel her brain hurting all over from the strain of trying to keep up. Kath had been mortified that she'd been unable to make it.
During the taxi ride back to her apartment Nancy thought about calling Carlos and arranging a late dinner, but if she had to get her summary written, they really wouldn't have any time and she'd be preoccupied throughout. She sighed as she looked longingly at her cell phone. Soon, she thought.
She climbed the stairs up and let herself in with her key, then kicked her pumps off and walked on stocking feet into the kitchen. The television was on in the living room, but turned low, to some Sex and the City repeat. Two silhouetted heads showed above the back of the couch.
Not that Mina ever watched that show.
Nancy poured herself a tumbler of water and walked into the living room, quietly, watching carefully. Once she came around she stole a glance in that direction, then gasped aloud.
"Bess? George?"
The cousins woke up bleary-eyed, but happy. "Hey," George said first, managing to launch herself out of the enveloping couch and to her feet.
Nancy hugged her, laughing. "Man, I didn't realize how much I missed you guys," she said.
"You'd better have," Bess said, putting her arm around Nancy's shoulders.
"I just got your book a couple days ago," Nancy said. "Mail is so slow around here."
"Glad you got it," Bess said. "So... how is... that going?"
"Fine," Nancy said, resting her palm over her belly.
"Been to the doctor yet?"
"Not yet," Nancy said. She looked down. "I haven't told anyone here, and... how long are you guys gonna be here? We can go shopping, maybe go by a doctor's office..."
"Nan," George rolled her eyes. "You call right now."
"I can't, no one's open," Nancy replied, laughing. "Besides, I need to catch up with you guys. How are things? How have you guys been?"
"Good," Bess said, after she exchanged a glance with her cousin.
Nancy looked back and forth between them. "What?"
"Nothing," Bess replied. "Later."
"Where's your luggage? Are you staying nearby?"
"Yeah," George said. "As much fun as it would be to pile all three of us into your bed..."
"Yeah, I see your point," Nancy said. "Come on in."
They made the appropriate noises, asked questions and Bess even went so far as to ask if she could touch Nancy's still-flat belly, but something didn't seem right. Nancy blamed it on their jet lag. George kept yawning, and Bess wasn't her usual exuberant self.
"Okay, you're making me feel bad," Nancy said. "So go back to your hotel, please. After class-- oh, dammit."
George was watching her carefully. "Plans?"
"Yeah," Nancy admitted. "I'll cancel."
"Don't cancel," George said, stifling another yawn, murmuring her apologies. "We'll be here the rest of the weekend, we can spare you a Friday night watching unintelligible Spanish cable."
"Yeah, just give us some recommendations on where to go for some fun," Bess chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows.
Nancy reached a decision. "Give me the number of your hotel," she said. "I'll call you tomorrow. I know we can do something."
George was feeling around in her pockets for a spare sheet of paper, and withdrew a jewel case. Nancy took down the phone number Bess parroted, then returned her questioning gaze to George's hands.
George gave her a hesitant smile, which Bess seemed to share. She put the CD, labeled in black marker, down on Nancy's desk. "Ned wanted you to have this," she said.
Nancy tilted her head and looked back and forth between the two of them. "He knew you were coming over here?"
After a pause Bess nodded. "Yeah. He misses you."
"Okay," Nancy said, quietly, not trusting herself to speak further.
"Have a good night," George told her, and gave her a hug. Bess did as well, and for a moment the three of them stood together, eyes closed, wordless.
After she had called a cab for them and shown them out, watched the expanding exhaust trail until it had vanished, Nancy went back up to her room. She stood looking down at the CD for a moment before she could bring herself to touch it, and then opened her lower desk drawer quickly, grabbed her headphones and slammed it shut again. She put that and the notes from the conference into her bookbag and rushed out the door into the cooler night.
The computer lab was filled with the quiet buzz of the fluorescent lights and the occasional snicker of the group of girls huddled at one end. Nancy plugged her headphones into her microcassette recorder and finished writing her notes in record time, then read over them to make sure she hadn't made any glaring errors or grammar mistakes. She had checked her email when she had arrived, and an animated ad caught her eye.
Then a familiar name on a fading headline.
She clicked it, her breath catching in her throat. A new window opened, a long block of text, the slow loading picture.
Ned.
She would have known him anywhere. The story detailed how he had won the last few games for his team. Now he was the rookie with a name, product endorsements were soon to follow, he was the new darling.
Nancy clicked off her microcassette recorder, put the earphones into the computer port, loaded the CD he'd sent her and started listening.
--
"Thank you so much," Susanne said.
"Thanks for letting me cover it for you," Nancy said, holding her cell phone against her shoulder as she juggled her notebook and a messenger bag. "Were my notes any good to you?"
"They were great," Susanne said. "And I'll see you again Tuesday, right? I'll probably have another assignment for you then."
"I'll be looking forward to it," Nancy said with a smile in her voice as she wrestled her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door of her apartment.
George was waiting for her, having retired to Nancy's bedroom when Mina had emerged. She was sitting at Nancy's desk, scrawling in a notebook.
"Where's Bess?" Nancy asked, shouldering her messenger bag onto her unmade bed.
"In search of a vending machine," George replied, capping her pen. "You're leaving soon, though, aren't you."
"Yeah," Nancy sighed. She looked at her clothing collection and sighed to herself. "He's coming by to pick me up in about an hour. Unless, you two..."
"No," George said. "No, don't change your plans for us, trust me. Bess can get us in enough trouble all by herself. Got anything to do tomorrow?"
"Nothing," Nancy confessed. "I have a few things in the morning but I can catch up with you guys around lunchtime, and we'll go out tomorrow night. Is that okay?"
"It'll be great, Nan," George said, with a slight smile on her face. "Calm down. I know this was a surprise and you had no idea we were coming."
"Okay." Nancy finally stopped bustling around the room and sat down on her bed. "Ned. I read this article about him today."
"His game," George nodded. "I saw him in it. He was great. I'm sure his offers have been going through the roof."
"You don't know?" Nancy asked. "You haven't talked to him about it?"
George shrugged. Something, some expression was in her eyes that Nancy couldn't read. Nancy felt a sudden sickening suspicion that maybe George was carrying a torch for Ned, one that she hadn't realized until the two of them had broken up. "Not really," George said.
The flash of suspicion and anger had faded when Bess knocked on her door and peeked inside. "Hey guys," she said. "Nan, any fashion crises yet?"
Nancy put a bright smile on her face. "Let's see if we can make some," she said.
Forty-five minutes later Nancy was dressed and was pulling the last few curlers out of her hair. Bess and George were gone to whatever amusement they could find for themselves. With every glance George had given her, Nancy's suspicion had grown. She sat down at her desk, telling herself that it shouldn't bother her. Ned had every right to move on, even though she'd been sure that what he'd told her was the truth, that he didn't consider their engagement broken. Maybe the time between, the radio silence, had finally convinced him that she had been serious.
She still was. Just because she missed the bastard a little didn't mean she was going to take him back.
Then why, she wondered, do I still have his number in my phone.
The doorbell rang. Mina reached it first and gave Carlos a very appreciative once-over before moving aside so he could come into the apartment. Nancy stood in the doorway of her bedroom, in a soft ivory sweater and a knee-length flared brown skirt, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose curls.
"You look," Carlos began, but couldn't finish.
"I know," Nancy smiled. "Let me grab my purse."
"So, I hope that story you ditched me to cover was worth it," Carlos said after Nancy had been settled into the passenger seat of his car.
"If by 'worth it' you mean she's going to give me more stories, she's already told me she would," Nancy beamed. "I'm really sorry."
"And it will never happen again?" Carlos prompted, a smile on his face.
Nancy crossed her fingers under the folds of her skirt. "We can hope," she said. "How often are you planning on taking me out for dinner, anyway?"
"As often as I can," he said. "As often as you want me to."
She smiled at him, then broke their joined gaze and looked out the window, wondering where Bess and George were. Wondering if George was feeding change into a pay phone on a street corner, wanting to hear Ned's voice.
Her stomach clenched.
"Good," she told him, resting her fingertips against the cool glass.
Dinner was traditional, excellent, in an unassuming building she never would have thought was a restaurant. Curtained booths, exposed bricks, candlelight, and the hostess looked Nancy over as though she was a rival for his affections. He knew the menu like the back of his hand, ordered for her, and though she usually found the act unspeakably chauvinistic, with him it was charming. The corner of the floor was cleared for dancing and he extended his hand, raised his eyebrow, and Nancy followed him out. His hand resting at her waist, his blue eyes always effortlessly catching hers. The clatter of dishes and silverware and the conversations of all the other diners soon faded.
"Nancy," he said lightly.
She looked up into his eyes and knew then, with a thrill up her spine, that he was going to kiss her, and that she wanted him to. She tilted her face up to meet his and closed her eyes, and when he finally pulled back her eyelashes were fluttering, her cheeks flushed slightly under her makeup. "Wow," she breathed.
"Ready for some dessert?"
"Am I ever," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. He laughed, a rich deep laugh, and put his arm around her waist as they maneuvered back to their own table.
Nancy toyed with her cappuccino and dumped another packet of sugar in, sensing Carlos's disappointment that he hadn't been able to persuade her into some slice of pie or cake, something that could be eaten with two bumping spoons and knowing glances. The taste of him still on her lips. She'd never been wanting, not after, there were so many others waiting on the line. Utterly taken with her. Though she was beginning to fear what December would bring, the certainty that she would be leaving this life. Everything was changing. Everything was different, now.
Before, Ned had always been in the background, waiting for her again. Not this time. Not ever again.
She swallowed. Carlos made some gently-smiled comment about how quiet she was being and she laughed it off, let her fingertips linger halfway across the table so that he could let his trail over when he picked up the check.
Yes. Close the book and if he invites you back to his place, if he.
"You ready?"
"Yes," she said, her voice low, and then she raised her eyes to his.
--
A lingering kiss just outside her apartment and he was gone, with the promise that next time he wouldn't tire her out with dancing. A nice dinner back at his place, a movie, she could just relax and they could talk.
Nancy made a mental note to go to that lingerie shop she'd seen in town. The tasteful one.
Her room was too quiet, after that. She was too keyed up to sit quietly and not talk to anyone about what had happened, but Bess and George were probably still out. The pregnancy book Bess had sent her was still sitting, unread, on her desk, but that, her pregnancy, belonged to the life she hadn't started yet. Back in the States, back at Wilder, thank God she hadn't transferred to Emerson, she didn't think she could bear to see any references to him. Not anymore. The baby.
She huddled into a coat and crossed campus toward the computer lab, the utter silence filling up with the same questions she'd been asking herself since she'd seen the blue dots materialize before her eyes. She could let this happen and bind herself to Ned for eighteen more years, to a man who had cheated on her, and it would probably happen again, or she could have the child and never tell him.
Or she could just not have the child. Either that, or the doctor's appointment Bess and George kept urging her to keep. But the second she went to a doctor and started talking about her due date and her diet and scheduling follow-up, the bubble was burst, it would be over. She'd have no other choice than to carry to term.
She hadn't told either of them about her doubt or her fear or how seductive the idea was, to just let it happen in a gush of blood and it would all be over. She wasn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't go back to Ned, and without him, it didn't make sense anymore. Not to carry the proof of their mistake, of her innocence.
Without the child, without this, no one knew yet, no one else. She was at the club every time she was invited, out there, dancing and laughing. Three-inch heels and slick lipstick and perfect legs, fumbled Spanish and fluttering eyelashes and a winning smile.
Carlos.
Going back to the States, having her baby, telling her father what had happened. Paternity testing and Ned's closed expression and eighteen years.
She hadn't been able to wait, not before, not when she'd seen his soft eyes from the height of an airport escalator. She'd counted the days until she could run into his arms again. Now it was all recriminations and child support, and, and, how could she pull deadlines with a baby in her arms, how could she even bother finishing her degree, with what Ned had done to her. While he was worshipped for running across a flat field with a ball under his arm. No doubt or worry about what the future would hold. No end to who he could have or what he would be given.
And George.
Nancy stopped at a vending machine and bought a Coke, drank half of it down at once, and stood gasping, lips wet. She was dreaming. Without this.
Oh God, to see Ned with George, to know he was happy with her while Nancy raised his child. God, no.
Why even go back, why even spend her time avoiding them when she could stay here? She could go anywhere. She could rid herself of this and go anywhere, and she could be the one they would avoid. She could be the one whose smiling face shone down at them from billboards and television commercials and internet webcasts. She could be the one. Return the ring and move on.
Nancy walked into the computer lab, a determined look on her face, and sat down next to Kath, who was checking her email. "So, how did it go?" Kath asked.
"Great," Nancy replied.
If she had been able to put her hands on a hammer, she would have splintered that CD into a thousand bits.
--
The anger had drained off by the time Nancy headed back to her room. No missed calls on her phone. She was fine with it all. Maybe George and Bess were back in their room. She called the hotel. After some wrangling in Spanish, she tried to tell the clerk that she was trying to reach the blonde American girl and her taller dark-haired cousin, but she had to have some word wrong because he vehemently denied any such party. Then he muttered something under his breath as she heard him attack a keyboard in the background, and with some flourished announcement he connected her to the room.
George answered. "Nan? Hey."
"Hey. You guys are back?"
"Yeah, Bess had a minor shoe emergency. You back from your date?"
"Yeah. Want to hang out? I can come over there if you're tired."
"No, that's okay," George said quickly. "We'll be over there. Give us half an hour."
As Nancy hung up the phone she belatedly realized what the clerk had been muttering under his breath.
Three.
--
Nancy managed to get through the rest of the weekend by telling herself that she was definitely going to terminate the pregnancy. Ned and George could be happy, as far as she was concerned. Obviously George didn't have the same fears that Ned would stray. And he was so very over her that he could even come all the way to Europe just to spend time with his girlfriend, not to even bother calling her. So that was fine. Everything was great. Carlos was nice enough but she didn't need to pin her hopes on him, either. If December came and with it an offer to go to England, or just the whim to maybe look up her old friend Mick and see what he was up to, well, that was fine.
She made the offer to go with George and Bess to the airport expecting to be turned down, expecting George to make some excuse about how they'd be fine. But even after Nancy assured, wickedly, that it would be no trouble to her, Bess and George took her up on it. Bess let her ride in the front, all the better if she felt any nausea related to the baby, and at the airport they parted with the promise that Nancy would be back as soon as she could. Nothing but concern in their gazes, nothing but well-wishes and regrets that their visits had been so short. Bess promising that Nancy's child would be the most spoiled baby ever.
Nancy was puzzled and quiet the entire cab ride back to school. She was wearing an unremarkable outfit over a matched set of pale pink lace, just in case. Maybe Carlos had an apartment all to himself and a very welcoming bed and a bottle of wine at the ready.
Maybe I was wrong.
Carlos greeted her at his door, wearing a button-down the exact same ice blue as his eyes, a chagrined smile on his face. He had made a valiant effort at dinner, but the remains were now smoking gently in the sink and he'd ordered out. He hoped Nancy liked Indian.
Nancy hadn't tried anything spicy since her worst bouts of morning sickness, but she gave him a confident smile and said everything would be fine. He'd rented a few movies, and invited Nancy to pick between.
None of them featured a boat chase.
She picked one, took the glass of wine he offered her, and managed to force down a few swallows before she drew herself a glass of water and worked on that the rest of the evening. The Indian food arrived and they camped out on the couch with the low coffee table pulled up close. Nancy gratefully took a large portion of naan bread, but Carlos insisted that she taste the forkful of rice he held to her lips.
Maybe I was wrong.
Gradually she relaxed. She sampled some of the dishes he'd ordered, ones she'd never heard of before, and let herself fall into the familiar rhythm of the movie. He gave her a kiss before he went to the kitchen for more wine, the same taste on their lips, the hint of bitter juice, and he was gone.
Nancy drained her water glass and stood, still watching the movie. The mantelpiece above the entertainment center was full of small clay figurines, curved and bowed and minutely carved. She took a few silent steps toward it and stood, enrapt.
"My ex," Carlos said, standing in the doorway from the kitchen, silhouetted in its light, leaning against the frame and a study in relaxation. The first few buttons were undone on his shirt. She didn't remember him doing that. Her hand, fingers still cautiously spread, dropped back to her side. "Sure you do not want some more wine?"
The unpleasant feeling in her belly rose at that. She knew he wanted her to have some more, but she also was hoping she'd be able to keep herself from being sick, and more wine wouldn't help. "More water would be great," she said, scooping up the glass and bringing it to him. He looped an arm around her waist and brought her to him for a kiss.
"We should get back to the movie," she said when they parted, giving him a soft smile.
"You sure?" he asked, and when she nodded he gave her a disappointed sigh that ended in a smile. "All right."
More water didn't calm her stomach. She took a triangle of the bread and tore it into strips, ate those slowly and prayed while she kept her eyes glued on the screen. If only her phone would ring, if anything. But it didn't.
Then she excused herself as quickly as she could and reached his bathroom just in time.
Carlos was still on the couch when she came back, rubbing the back of her hand over her rinsed mouth. He looked over and raised a concerned eyebrow.
"I just," she looked down, knowing how it was going to sound, mortified that he had probably heard her. "I need to lay down for a few minutes and I'll be fine."
In all honesty she felt too shaky to handle the phone or call for a cab, and was hoping that the nausea would pass. Carlos jumped up and the movie continued on the screen, bright and abrasive to her sensitive eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"I will be," Nancy managed, along with a shaky smile. "I'm so sorry. It's been a while since I've had Indian." And apparently the baby doesn't like it, she didn't even think of adding.
"You can take my bed," he said, and at her horrified look continued, "I insist. Since I made you sick. I am sorry."
"No, no, it's all right. I can just," she said, helplessly, then trailed off.
"It will be fine. I will be on the couch."
--
At two o'clock in the morning she opened her eyes again. Her left hand trailed up the mattress with no resistance until it met the pillow.
New sheets. He had changed his sheets for her, made his bed. His comforter was a down-filled pillow of warmth and she was in her unbuttoned jeans and t-shirt. Definitely not the way he'd imagined it, not the way she had either. The harsh smell of cold and his scent, the unexpected scrape of hardwood floors and a rag rug, the rattle of pipes and the faint hush of unfamiliar voices coming from the television set in the living room.
He had promised to wake her and take her back to her room in time to get ready for class. Her watch ticked from the bedside table.
She rested her palm over her belly, the doubtful bundle of flesh, and her brow creased. Okay. She felt solid again, not like some jumbled slipping mass of writhing muscles and gurgled protests. She propped herself gently on elbows and then the heels of her hands, then the headboard, cringing when the mattress made any squealing protest, when the ridged skin of her palms whispered against the sheet.
Shoes and socks, found and put on with the careful concentration of a five-year-old, a hand brushed through her hair and watch back on her wrist. The necklace was still around her neck. She'd been meaning to take it off and jam it into a pocket of her jeans, but she had forgotten, and it had all been for moot anyway.
She went into the bathroom and asked a sleepy dispatcher for a cab to his address, then hung up, creeping slowly on thin soles and squeaking floorboards through Carlos's apartment, to see him drowsing with a forearm over his face, in the strobe of the quiet television set.
She left a note on his refrigerator and locked the doorknob before closing the door behind her.
Her room was freezing when she let herself in. She hopped out of her jeans and went to bed in stocking feet, the necklace still around her neck.
The necklace with Ned's engagement ring hanging from it.
She lost herself in a dreamless sleep, only once getting up to find and devour a packet of crackers. Her empty stomach growled her back to sleep.
She woke at her alarm, showered and dressed and brushed her teeth and hair. Just like any regular Monday. Just like any day. Her cell phone was off and quiet. He had probably called, wondering where she was, wondering why she'd felt she had to leave. A voice promising more nights on his couch and more crisp clean sheets and dances with his hand lingering at her waist.
Nancy called a cab, this one for the hotel.