Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I headed downstairs and waved to the doorman on my way out, then put my earbuds into my ears and turned on some music. It had been so long since I just listened to something that made me happy.
Honestly, after last night and this morning, I felt lighter.
Despite the work and workout I had earlier, I felt energized and shamelessly rocked out to some Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and a little Pink. I was on cloud nine. This had to be what happiness felt like. I had never let myself truly feel this way before. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, but this time, I wanted to feel it. I wanted to bask in this feeling for as long as I could.
It was almost like I was a new person; there was a little dance in my step, and I smiled at people as I walked past them on the sidewalk. Of course, this being New York, they all stared at me like I was on drugs, or a danger to society, or worse, from California.
Since Harrison had taken his car and driver, and it was the middle of the day with the sun still up and people about, I figured it was safe enough to take the subway.
While in the subway, I got this nagging feeling at the back of my neck, the same one I got every time I was being watched. But I was in a good mood, so I decided that it was just all in my head, or people were staring because I was a New Yorker smiling on the subway. That shit was weird. A homeless man naked on a subway was totally normal. A woman smiling and genuinely happy in the New York winter was a sign of the apocalypse. Homeless, you could understand. Crazy was unpredictable.
I ignored the feeling and went about my business, getting off at my stop. Despite the shady neighborhood and the frigid weather, it was still a beautiful day, and I decided I was going to enjoy my walk to my soon-to-be former apartment building.
I still had that same nagging feeling tickling the back of my neck, but I ignored it, thinking it was all in my head. I did at least have the sense to turn off my music and pay a little bit more attention to my surroundings. For the first time I could remember, the guys were not sitting on the stoop, and I wondered if Harrison had made good on his threats to have the building and the landlord investigated.
It didn’t matter. I just needed to grab some things, and I’d be out. I ran up the stairs, made it to my door, and closed it behind me. My stuff seemed like it was all still here, like no one had ransacked the place, although I wasn’t quite sure how to tell. It wasn’t like I had dressers or anything to store things.
I grabbed a trash bag from under the kitchen sink and started throwing in clothes and anything else I wanted to keep.
It took me less than five minutes to get everything I needed. I looked around, seeing if there was anything else, and I realized that there was nothing in this apartment that I even wanted. This was all part of the old Eddie, the one who managed to convince herself that this was what it took to succeed in life. You had to sacrifice until you were miserable, letting people take advantage because of your rental situation. Never again. I was actually thinking about that as I got ready to leave, wondering if maybe that was the area of law I wanted to specialize in. I didn’t think it’d make me rich, especially because I had no intention of being on the landlord side of things, but maybe working for Legal Aid or some other legal clinic would make enough to support some kind of life, or who knows, maybe I would end up as Mrs. Harrison Astrid. The notion made me laugh, but something inside of me wanted it to be possible.
“Well, I think that’s it,” I said to absolutely no one.
I took one last look at the life of the old “Edwina Carmichael” then grabbed the trash bag, slinging it over my shoulder, ready to turn the page to the next chapter of my life. The one where I still worked like a dog but treated myself a little better and let other people, really one person, help me achieve my goals.
“Yeah, I don’t even think you’re going to be needing that, doll,” a deep, heavily accented voice said behind me.
I turned around to see two large men wearing dirty jeans and matching faded black hoodies and knit beanies standing in my doorway.
“Can I help you?” I said, taking a step back.