Page 2 of Center Sneak

I trail a finger along my permanent scar under the sheets, and in that moment, I feel brave. So far in life, I’ve learned that some people’s words are empty, but others are sincere. It’s hard to know sometimes which is which. Let’s test the waters.

Scarlett: Can I really?

Sebastian: Of course

Sebastian: Do you want me to book a flight for you, or do you have it?

Scarlett: Do you mind booking it for me?

Scarlett: I’ll pay you back

I don’t want to use my husband’s credit card to pay for the flight because then he’d know. I will absolutely pay Sebastian back—once I get actual money, but I haven’t worked in a long time…

Crap.

I’m second-guessing myself now, but the text has already been sent.

Sebastian: No problem. Think of it as a birthday present from me

Sebastian sends a screenshot of a few different flight options, all ranging in dates and times. One particular option catches my eye.

Scarlett: I’ll take the first option, please

The very first option departs from San Francisco Airport tonight. I peek at the time, and I have less than two hours to get to the airport, but I don’t want to wait. I have little I care about in this place, anyway.

Earlier, I was upset that my husband drank so much at dinner and passed out before nine. Now I’m relieved. He hasn’t even flinched during my little text exchange with my brother. He’s usually on high alert when I reach out to the outside world, but tonight, he’s too drunk to care.

This is my out, and I’m going to take it as an early birthday present for myself.

Another text from Sebastian comes through with a question, and I try to hold in my laugh.

Sebastian: How many people?

He’s so nice and innocent to think Joel would want to escape to Boston with me at the last minute.

Scarlett: Just me

A few minutes later, my phone vibrates with the flight details, and I clutch the device to my stomach as a safety net.

This is it.

I find a backpack and quietly throw a few pieces of clothing, my laptop, my Kindle, some chargers, and a few other essentials inside. I’m packed in under five minutes.

I slip into a pair of sneakers, grab my purse nearby, and I don’t even dare to turn around to glance at my husband. I’m already out the door.

The next morning, I step out of the giant glass double doors at Logan Airport to search for my brother. The air is brisk, with flurries floating down. Even though there’s a fresh coat of white everywhere, everything already looks brighter.

Maybe my thirties won’t be so terrible after all.

Chapter Two

Calvin

“Do you want the good or bad news first?” My agent, Rick, says when I pick up his call. Not even a hello, just down to business.

“Bad news,” I retort. Everyone knows you always start with the terrible shit first.

“You’re being traded.”