Chapter 1
His arms were already under me before I could tell him not to touch me. One hand behind my knees, the other braced against my back, and I was off the wet pavement and against his dark coat whether I wanted to be or not. The city lights behind him blurred into bokeh and the rain had left a sheen across the street that reflected every streetlamp like a second city underneath us. We were supposed to be at the lawyer's office at four. Instead my beige trench coat was bunched around my cream knit pants and my light heels dangled uselessly and he was carrying me bridal-style toward glass doors I hadn't planned to walk through for any reason. That was the contradiction that kept flashing every time I tried to breathe — I'd spent three months preparing to untangle myself from this man and now I couldn't stand without him.
My name is Paula and that night I was supposed to sign divorce papers.
It was just past nine. The dark vehicle was still at the curb behind us where he'd double-parked, hazard lights ticking, passenger door hanging open because he'd left it that way when he came around for me. The wet had soaked through the back of my coat. I could feel his shirt damp against my cheek when my head tipped to his shoulder and I couldn't hold it up anymore. My arms were around his neck because I had nowhere else to put them. My breathing was shallow and too fast and every time I inhaled I could smell his coat, rain and cold wool and the faint gas station coffee from the cup holder. Up ahead, the hospital's automatic glass doors were lit up white and clean against the night, the overhead sensor a small black box, the fluorescent hallway beyond almost too bright after the street.
He adjusted his grip and I winced and he felt it. His eyes cut down to me, his stubble close enough I could see rain caught in it, and his voice came low and tight.
"Hold on to me."
I tried. My fingers tightened in the collar of his coat. The pavement kept moving under us, slow and steady, his shoes finding the dryer patches between puddles. A car passed on the street behind us and threw light across his face. I should have said no. I should have told him to put me down and call someone else. I didn't. The words that came out instead surprised me because they sounded so ordinary, like we were talking about a missed dinner reservation and not this.
"We were supposed to go to the lawyers."
He didn't break stride. His jaw worked once, a slow eye movement from the doors back to my face, restrained like he was holding something back behind his teeth.
"Can I touch you?" he asked.
It stopped me cold. His hand had already shifted higher on my back to keep me from sliding. The question wasn't about that. It was about permission he hadn't asked for in months, maybe a year. My brow furrowed before I could smooth it. Tears I hadn't realized were there burned hot against the cold air.
Just tell me the truth, I thought. Are you doing this because you care or because you don't want me walking into that office tomorrow?
"You're already touching me," I said, quiet.
He flinched, barely, a micro-expression at the corner of his mouth. "I know," he said. "Just—"
"Just get me inside, Paula," he said, but it wasn't me speaking. It was him, saying my name like an answer to himself, like he needed to hear it to keep moving. His voice cracked on the last word and he pulled me closer, my head back on his shoulder, my eyes closing against the light pouring out of the hallway ahead.
May you like
We reached the threshold. The wet pavement gave way to the concrete apron in front of the automatic glass doors. I could see our reflection coming back at us, his dark coat, my pale face and long brown hair stuck to my cheek, his arms locked around me, my heels still caught on my feet somehow. The sensor above the doors was dark and waiting. He didn't stop. He stepped forward into its range and the glass shuddered.
The doors were about to open, and with the white hall spilling out toward us, he looked down at me, his concerned expression finally breaking open, and said, "We're not getting a divorce today."
