Page 154 of Seven
"I'm just letting you know in advance in case you don't hear from me."
"I see," he responded, his tone abnormally serious like he understood what exactly I meant.
"Yeah," I muttered. "Anyway, just check it out about the person I mentioned."
"Of course."
I was scared shitless of what he would dig up.
50 kimmy
The loft was quiet except for the rhythm of rain against the windows.
It was that kind of rain, just heavy enough to flatten the world outside into a watercolor of city lights. I sat on the edge of the couch, knees pulled to my chest, an iPad balanced across them like a tray of explosives.
There wasn't much to do in the safe house except for waiting for Seven, eating leftovers, munching on my favorite coconut candy, healing my body partially wrecked by Valmont and partially wrecked by mind-blowing sex with Seven. And doomscrolling.
I picked doomscrolling.
Seven had left yesterday in the morning. He'd kissed me like he was going to war right before he walked out the door. He'd taken the pendant with him, and I expected the news about Valmont to break any second now.
The iPad loaded the news with a jittery, blue-white glare that made the entire space feel colder. The first headline was a punch to the gut.
BREAKING: Celine Valmont Files for Divorce, Accuses Husband of Infidelity
I thumbed the screen so hard I almost dented it. There was a blurry paparazzi shot of Celine Valmont, her eyes red and her hair in that perfect little spiral, leaving some building along with her lawyer. The text below was a swarm of legalese, a jumble of words all mashed together.
The article was from yesterday. Somehow, in my lonely post-sex craze that I'd spent getting myself off to the images of naked Seven in my head, I'd missed the news.
But today, I wasn't that horny anymore. So, I shifted my gears to different activities.
I skimmed the article quickly, searching for information mostly about Caius Valmont. There were no details. Just the mention of infidelity. I wondered if this was all that was going to be covered in the media. That pissed me off. I hadn't gotten shit kicked out of me just to have this bullshit published online.
I wanted for everyone, the entire world to see who the man was.
I doomscrolled for another hour or two, then took a break to stretch and call Katrina to check in on her house situation and to ensure Mom's plants were getting the attention they needed. And the stray cats too.
"Everything is A-okay here," Katrina chirped on the line. "Jazz is handling the insurance and we've already ordered furniture replacement.”
"Great. I'm sorry this happened."
"Why are you apologizing, sis? You make it sound like it's your fault."
It was my fault. All of it. "It must be a hassle."
"That's why I have Jazz."
"I'm glad he is helping. And Mom's plants?"
"Neighbors are keeping an eye on her place." Katrina was much closer with Margaret. My sister was always the first one to come to the rescue when Mom needed help. They didn't believe I'd remember to tend to Mom's garden and feed the street cats while she was in the Bahamas.
"Thanks. I gotta go."
I was about to hang up when my sister said, "Is there something you're not telling me?"
I played dumb. "What do you mean?"
"About the so-called Mom's vacation?"
