Morgan Rielly Imagine

Part Twenty-One

My mind goes numb the father down I go. When the elevator stops at the elevator, it feels as if my stomach and heart and everything else vital to my very being continues the descend. I barely feel my legs moving as I somehow make it out the revolving doors and into the cool night.

Mason's jacket does little to keep me warm, I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm wearing very little beneath it but I don't mind, I don't even feel the cold. I wonder vaguely what is going on upstairs right now and then a sudden thought sends panic through my veins.

What if Nick comes downstairs to find me?

I don't know if he would actually try right now, but he had tried to get into my elevator. My surroundings come more into focus and I look back the throng of people to the street in search of a taxi, if there even are any. I've never hailed a cab before, only ever using my Lyft or Uber app to get rides but I've seen shows and movies, those are the same as real life right?

Stepping on the curb, I raise a hand and watch as vehicles whiz past and then I spot one. It's not what I would have expected a taxi to look like, no obnoxious yellow with black lettering, instead it's a simple white car with a taxi fare sign on the top. The driver pulls to the curb and I clamber into the backseat.

After giving the driver, a pleasant woman who must be in her early forties, my destination I slump back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. Tears hadn't come yet and I willed them to keep at bay until I return to my hotel room. But behind the blackness of my closed eyes all I see is Nick, his mouth and hands running over some other woman's body.

Disgust pools in my stomach and I think I might throw up. I had shook that woman's hand before, I'd talked to her children before, one of whom was just four years younger than Nick and myself. How long had I been so blind to the signs? This distance between us, both physically and emotionally, his need to control me even more hundreds of miles away; the list in endless.

A dry sob escapes my mouth, still muffled by my hands but loud enough for the driver to hear me.

"Are you alright, honey?" She asks and I'm surprised at the southern accent to her words.

I try to throw the words "I'm fine" out but they just won't go. I know if I open my mouth to speak everything in me will break and I won't be able to stop the flood of tears drowning the inside of me already. Instead I just shake my head, it takes more energy to lie rather than tell, or nod, the truth.

"Cheating boyfriend." It's not another question, it's a statement.

I lower my hands from my face and blink several times for the woman to come in focus, her eyes are not on the mirror looking back at me, she's staring at the road. I swallow several times and take even more deep breaths.

"How did you know?" I ask, my voice raspy and betraying me with the sadness behind it.

"Honey, I've worn that very look several times in my life. I even have the wedding rings to prove it," she laughs dryly, "it never gets any easier to begin with. First boyfriend?" The last part is a question.

"First serious," I correct and she nods again.

"That'll be the worst," she says and I scowl. No shit. "I take it you're not from here as well since I'm bringing you to a hotel. Long distance relationship?"

Again I nod and somehow she knows though she never looks at me.

"Every odd stacked against you," she says and I don't have a response. Her dark eyes follow the line of traffic, never once darting my direction. I look at her hands, and once when we pass under a street light, I see the glint of something shiny decorating her even darker skin.