Sealed With A Kiss

14

I'M STRESSING and stressing. I felt as though I was going to faint at any moment. This can't be a hot flash, I'm way too young for that.

"Are you listening to me?" My client nudged my shoulder with an annoyed look on his face. He'd been rambling on and on about his wife for the past hour and a half, and all I could think about was my move to Chicago.

"Yes, Mr. Gobin. Just give me a few minutes. I have to use the ladies room," he arrogantly nodded.

I left my office, and headed to the restroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I noticed my body shaking. Gosh, what's wrong with me? I'd been craving a lot of food lately, but would feel sick immediately after.

Fuck, when's the last time I had my period? I began to panic. Do I have any pregnancy tests in my desk drawer? I kept a few in there. But they might have been expired.

"Alyssa?" Jones walked in, and looked at me, "you okay?"

"Yeah, just my period," I washed my hands, and wiped them with a few napkins.

"I don't miss those days," she headed into a bathroom stall, but continued the conversation, "menopause came extremely early for me."

"Really?" I wished that I could have washed my face. But I didn't want to ruin my makeup. I actually wore some mascara that day, and a nude shade of lipstick. I guess that I was inspired by a certain someone in my life. 

I can't be pregnant. I haven't had sex since— Fuck, I almost forgot about the guy I met on Tinder. But that happened a few months ago. I surely had my period after I met him.

"It's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. I don't miss the days of rolling on the floor. No painkiller could take away that pain."

"Ever saw a doctor for it?" I ask.

The toilet flushed, and she walked out, while fixing her shirt. She walked over to the sink, and began to wash her hands.

"Nope. I didn't grow up in a time where for every ache we ran to the hospital. That's why so many people are drowning in medical bills these days," Jones was probably in her late fifties already. I wondered what McConnon saw in her. He was known for chasing after younger women—some young enough to be his granddaughter. But even with all of that, the two of them were still a thing, from what I'd known, "I'll see you around, Alyssa. We should catch up before you leave. Have a drink or something."

"Yeah, for sure."

My client was probably pissed off at this point. I headed back into my office, noticing that he was on a call.

"I don't care about that. Just get it done!" He yelled into the phone. If I was on the other end of that call, I wouldn't allow him to speak to me like that, "good, you're back."

I made my way to my desk, and sat down, "yes, I'm sorry about that. We were discussing the prenup agreement?"

"Right. I need you to find a loophole or something."

"Because of the infidelity? I see here that there's no clause for that. She still gets half of all assets regardless."

"And I need you to fix that. That bitch doesn't deserve a cent of my money."

"I'm not sure if there's anything I can do here, Mr. Gobin. Unless you want to fight this in court," he married into money, then acquired more after. His wife gracefully married him knowing that if they divorced, he'd gain half of everything that she had, so I didn't see the problem—other than him being selfish. But she was selfish to cheat on him. So it was a lost for both.

"Yes, I'm fucking going to fight it. Are you dumb or something?" I arched my brow. What did he just say?

"I might be here to tend to your problems, but don't take it out on me, okay?"

"Listen, I want to speak to the head of your department. I don't think you're suited for such a high-profile case."

I crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned back, "what makes your case so high-profile?" I wanted to laugh, but I had to stay professional. Did he know what a high-profile case was? "I'm sorry if I caused any inconvenience for you, Mr. Gobin. But you better talk to me with respect, else I have the right to refuse this firm's services to you."

"And who do you think you are!"

"The head of the divorce department, and a partner in this firm. Didn't you read the plaque on my door, before coming in here?" I knew that McConnon was going to give me shit about losing a client. But I bet he preferred to keep me around, instead of a client who could barely make a dent in the year's revenue.

"I want to speak to your boss," just go for it. I'm sick of looking at you.

I placed my hand over my stomach and cringed. I felt something whirling inside of my belly.

"Fuck," I rushed out of the office, and into the restroom. Finding the closest toilet, and falling to my knees, the contents of my stomach spewed out like a mentos thrown into a bottle of coke. I've never felt so awful in my life.