Chapter 7 - The Valet Line Went Quiet When I Said No
The chairs scraped back all at once when Carol stood and thanked everyone for supporting the foundation. It sounded like a wave pulling out. People reached for wraps and clutches and started toward the lobby, and the marble that had looked so warm under the chandeliers turned hard and loud under heels.
I stayed seated a second longer. My feet ached. The satin at my shoulder had slipped and I fixed it. There was a dried spot of red on my wrist I hadn't wiped off. I stared at it because it was easier than looking up.
Daniel's hand landed on the back of my chair. "Up," he said, low, near my ear. "We walk out together."
It wasn't an ask. His fingers pressed into the wood. He'd wiped most of the soup from his face and beard with club soda and napkins, but his blazer was ruined, stiff at the lapel, and he smelled sour and sweet. People were already glancing over.
I stood. The room tilted a little and I caught the edge of the table. He put his hand at the small of my back, high enough not to touch the belly, and steered me toward the doors. His palm was hot through the satin.
The lobby was brighter and colder. The valet stand was backed up, a line of men in dark coats handing over tickets, women checking phones. Someone laughed too loud by the glass doors. Outside, headlights swept the circle drive.
"You'll ride with me," Daniel said. He kept his voice even for the people around us. "We get in the car together. We smile for whoever's got a phone out."
I didn't answer. My phone was in my little clutch and I dug for it. My hands shook.
"Maya." He leaned in. "Don't do this here. Get in the car."
A valet called a number. A couple moved past us, the woman avoiding my eyes. I found the rideshare app and opened it. The screen blurred, then cleared.
"I'm not riding with you," I said.
His hand tightened at my back. "You're my wife. You're pregnant. You're not standing in a parking lot at midnight waiting for a stranger."
"I'm not getting in your car." I kept my eyes on the phone. The little car icon moved along the map. Four minutes away. "It's ordered."
He breathed out through his nose. "Cancel it."
"No."
Carol came up on my other side, her heels clicking fast. She'd put her wrap over her green dress. Her makeup had settled into lines I hadn't noticed before. She looked from Daniel's stained blazer to my phone.
"What's going on?" she said.
"She's making a scene," Daniel said. "Tell her to get in the car. People are watching."
Carol touched my arm. "Honey, the lot's full of our donors. Please. Just ride home together tonight. You can be mad tomorrow."
The doors opened and cold air pushed in. I could smell exhaust and wet concrete. My driver was three minutes away. The app showed a gray sedan and a name.
I slipped my arm out from under Daniel's hand. It felt strange to move away from him in public, like stepping off a curb I couldn't see.
"I said no," I said. I looked at Carol when I said it. "I'm going home alone."
Daniel laughed, short. "You don't even have your address right in that thing. Cancel it, Maya."
"It's my address too," I said.
That stopped him. His jaw worked. Behind us, someone called his name like they wanted a photo, then thought better of it. The valet shouted another number.
Carol's hand stayed in the air where my arm had been. She glanced at the line of guests, then back at me. "Where will you go?" she asked, quieter.
"Home," I said. "My apartment. Without him for tonight."
My phone buzzed. Driver arriving. I stepped toward the glass. The cold hit my bare shoulders and I pulled my wrap tighter. Daniel followed half a step.
"Maya, if you get in that car, don't —" He cut himself off because an older couple was right there, pretending not to listen.
I didn't wait for the end of it. I pushed outside. The concrete was damp under my heels. A gray sedan pulled to the curb, hazards on. The driver rolled the window down and said my name wrong, and I nodded anyway.
May you like
I looked back once. Daniel stood just inside the doors holding both our valet tickets, his face flushed under the lobby lights. Carol stood beside him, her arms crossed over her wrap, watching me. She didn't call out. She just watched, and for the first time that night she looked unsure of what to fix first.
I got in the back seat and shut the door. The driver asked if I was okay, and I said yes. As we pulled away, I saw Daniel hand the tickets to the valet and walk toward the garage alone.
