Page 48 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

“What are we ordering?” she asked, and opened her little notebook to a new page to take notes on the samples.

Henry dropped them back at the hotel. Mariah crashed for a bit. While she slept, Veronica paced the sitting room, from the windowoverlooking Russell Square to the minikitchen, around the coffee table, back to the window. When she could open the app for her bank and see the day’s new activities, she saw that what she’d feared was exactly what had happened: the alimony payment from Spence had not shown up in her account. That meant that all the autopayments were refused, with the exception of the electric bill, which had come out first.

That was the stress of living hand-to-mouth. If one thing fell out of place, it could wreck everything.

She sank down on the couch, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw spots. What the actual hell was she going to do? If she didn’t pay the rent, the apartment would be lost, and she had no way to get it cleaned out between now and the first of January.

Not to mention she didn’t want to lose the apartment at all.

When the clock showed it would be 10:00 a.m. in Colorado, she called Spence in his office. He always arrived at 9:45 a.m. and spent an hour on grading or preparing lesson plans. He prided himself on his systems.

He answered the phone, a landline on his desk, on the second ring. “Hello,” he said pleasantly.

“It’s me, Spence.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I think you know the alimony check didn’t arrive.”

“I am aware, but asyouare aware, the furnace had to be replaced, and the money had to come from somewhere.”

Jagged anger bolted red through her veins, feeling so hot it could split her skin. “It is not my house,” she said, enunciating each word.

“And. You. Are. Not. My. Wife,” he returned.

“You’re breaking the law!”

“Not a very important law,” he said mildly. “And you have a job now.”

“I do have a job,” she said, trying to calm herself. “But it will not cover my rent, and I cannot afford to lose that place.”

“You don’t have to live in Boulder,” he said. “The kids are grown. They can visit you in Denver.”

His cavalier attitude hit the back of her throat, spread downward to her gut, burning, turning back on itself. Her heart raced so hard she feared a heart attack, and the soles of her feet burned on the floor. If she walked, she’d leave behind footprints of fire.

In a whisper, she asked, “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t expect anything. You’re a grown woman.”

“How can you treat the mother of your children this way, Spence? You’re a better person than this.”

“I’m doing what I have to do to take care of my current family, Ronny.”

“Don’t call me Ronny,” she said tightly, but he’d backed her into a corner. A hard heel of anxiety pressed into her chest. What else could she do but give in? Taking a breath, she said as calmly as she was able, “Look. I can’t do anything from England. Pay me this month’s alimony, and I’ll sign the bloody agreement.”

“Funny how you can make it work now.”

“I can’t. But I can’t lose the apartment when I’m halfway around the world, either. And you’re doing the same to Jenna.”

“I’m not going to take her money away. That was just to get her attention. She needs to earn more. So do you. You’re a capable adult.”

Veronica closed her eyes, breathed through her nose, repeating all the things she’d learned in group about how to manage her emotions. Tears flowed down her face, but no one could see her, and as long as he couldn’t hear it, she didn’t care. A second, horrible thought came to her. “Did you cut off my credit card?” It had been on their shared account, although she paid the bill.

“It’s time, don’t you think?”

She had a debit card, which was where the money from Mariah would go. “Spence, I can get back without the credit card, but please don’t force me to lose that apartment.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Too late. I paid for the furnace instead of your alimony.”