Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Sam speaking,” she greets, indifferently.
“So, you’ll answer your phone to an unknown number but not to your sister?”
I’m met with silence and I wonder briefly if she’s going to hang up.
“Blythe, is that you? Your number didn’t show. Is everything okay?” There’s no sincerity in her voice, which tells me she’s still wanting to keep her distance.
“My number didn’t show for a reason, because you’ve ignored my calls for the millionth time. I’m okay, but I miss my sister and I want to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m always fine.” She laughs but it’s a nervous sound.
“Look…” I say, deciding to take the gentle approach, “I’m sorry if I’ve said something to upset you. That was never my intention. I thought we had a great time when you took me out to Othello’s, but I haven’t heard from you since, and I’ve been wracking my brain wondering what’s happened to have you distance yourself from me so much that you won’t reply to my calls or messages.”
“Sis, I’m sorry,” she says, sincerity making a return. “I never meant to distance you. I guess I’ve just become absorbed in my work.”
Maybe that’s true, but I can’t shake the multiple images of her deliberately ignoring my communication attempts.
“How is work?” I concede to still play nice.
“Good. How’s things at Blythe Industries?”
“Good. What is it you said you do again?”
“Um… sales. I work in sales. Taken on any big-name clients recently?”
“What is it exactly you’re selling? Is it something I can buy, maybe increase your commission?”
“I don’t think you’d be interested. Have you seen Shawn recently? Are you getting back together?” She’s becoming a master at avoiding my questions and redirecting the focus.
“No. Do they make you wear a uniform? I know you hate how those starchy shirts feel on your skin.”
She laughs nervously. “Yeah, the uniforms are expectedly disgusting.”
Her lies hit me like a freight train. Up until her last response, her answers could have passed for some truth, but she doesn’t wear a uniform to work, that much I know. If looking like a supermodel just off the runway is ‘expectedly disgusting,’ then everything she’s said to me is a lie.
“Perhaps we can catch up during the week, have dinner at Bianco’s,” I suggest, baiting her into telling the truth for once which she takes hook, line, and sinker.
“You know I’d love to, but I work nights, so that won’t happen unless my boss gives me a random night off. In which case we can go to Othello’s again.”
The same place she handed out her business cards.
Why there?
Why not somewhere else?
“Okay, Sam. That sounds good.”
“Great. Look, sis, I gotta go. I’m due at work any minute.”
“Well… just remember I love you, and if you ever need anything, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Blythe,” she says before hanging up.
Annoyed at her one-word replies followed by her incessant changing of focus, I take three long gulps of wine, deciding that tomorrow I will organize my police check and get to the bottom of Samantha’s lies once and for all. Maybe then, we can move forward with our relationship.
My next task is an even greater pill to swallow. I need to inform Shawn that the lawyers have requested a mediation meeting. It’s not something I was all-for at first, still pissed at discovering he wasted a year, possibly more, of my life, but my attorney said it will work in my favor if I attend without qualm.
Opting out of calling, I reset my number and open a new message and begin typing details for the mediation. Pressing send, I gulp down more wine and toss my cell on the sofa. It’s a movie and ice cream night. Either The Notebook or Dirty Dancing, and salted caramel swirl ice cream.
My cell buzzes on the cushion next to me, and when I see Shawn’s name, I opt to leave it where it is. A simple message will suffice. I don’t need to be dragged into a bitter argument.
Moments after the ringing ends, he sends a message. Relenting, I pick up the cell and read it.
Shawn: Come on, Blythe. I know you’re ignoring my call, because you only just sent that message.
Me: That’s because—
My reply is interrupted when he starts calling again. “Damn you,” I mutter before answering, “Shawn.”
“Well, I guess, thank you for not ignoring me.”
Doesn’t feel nice, does it?
Despite it all, his voice still feels like home. The only man I’ve ever loved will always challenge my resolve.
“All the information is in the message, there’s no reason for us to talk outside of mediation.”
“Whoa,” he seems affronted. “I thought we’d made some peace last time I saw you. Has something changed?”
I feel my blood boil. “A lot has changed, Shawn. I’m done with being lied to. Everything you told me the other night was simply lie upon lie, and I’m tired of those closest to me thinking it’s okay to treat me like this. I was only ever a good wife to you, Shawn. I gave you the benefit of the doubt on so many occasions, and last night you just proved—”