threatened to fire me today if I didn’t stop seeing him.”
“Las sendeces!” barked an incensed Fernando. “That’s harassment. You’ve got to talk to human resources. Pronto! ”
I brushed away my tears to no avail. “I can’t. She’ll twist and turn things around, and I’ll end up losing my job. I won’t be able to help pay for my mother’s treatments.”
“What do you mean?” asked my puzzled friend.
I sobbed, “Oh, Fernando, the federal grant covering my mother’s treatments is expiring, and her insurance company won’t pay a dime because they’re experimental.”
“What about another insurance company?”
“I’m looking for one that will help defray the exorbitant cost, but it’s taking time and even if I do find one, the coverage will only be partial.” I sniffled loudly, choking out the next words. “And it may be too late.”
“ Mí pobrecita !” His voice full of compassion, he gave me a bear hug. It didn’t help me feel better. Nor did my third margarita, which I polished off quickly.
Recklessly, I ordered another one, despite Fernando’s protest, and with my tears salting the contents, I downed it. Despite the chill of the drink which sailed through my system, I felt my temperature rising. As sweat beads clustered on my forehead, nausea rose to my chest and the room began to spin. I blinked my eyes hard. There wasn’t one Fernando in front of me—but two!
What was happening? Unable to shake the sickening dizziness, I started to sway on my stool.
“ Mí amor , are you okay?” asked a concerned Fernando.
“I don’t think so.”
“ Vámonos. ”
I could barely stand up. Letting me lean on him, Fernando led me out of the bar. Each unsure step was a stumble. The world around me was spinning out of control, the sounds of the crowd, a dull cacophonous roar.
Once outside, I spilled my guts. The waves of nausea kept coming and coming. Even when there was nothing left inside me, I kept heaving. I had never been drunk in my entire life. Never. Or thrown up so much. The loss of my Trainman had driven me to drink. Driven me to behavior that had no right to be part of my being.
While I cried frightened tears, Fernando held my clammy hand and hailed a cab. One thankfully came quickly and Fernando helped me inside. I laid my head on his shoulder as blackness claimed me.
Ari
F uck. Shit. Fuck.
I’d set myself up for disaster.
I’d met Sarah’s boyfriend face to face.
And he’d turned me into a monster, bringing out that extreme jealous and possessive side of me that was reserved only for her.
I swear I would have bashed his pretty face in if Sarah hadn’t gotten in the way. Lowering my fist was next to impossible. I waited too long. In retrospect, I should have sent him crawling when the douchebag crushed his lips on hers.
Seething, I clenched my steering wheel as I headed uptown in the damn rush hour traffic. Yeah. I should have given it to him. Ruined that pretty face of his and claimed her right then and there. Fuck rational thinking.
So far the person who was spying on him had come up with nothing. Olga, Vadim’s wife. She’d done a stakeout of the Sutton Place building where Sarah’s boyfriend resided, but had seen neither of them emerge in the morning or afternoon. She knew what both of them looked like—Sarah from her stay in the Hamptons and Fernando from the photo I’d taken of him earlier.
Frustrated and furious, I thought about stopping for a drink to chill out, but I was afraid in my state I’d drink too much and do something foolish. Like get into a bar room brawl or even worse, an accident. I had a son. A son I loved and needed as much as the air I breathed, and I couldn’t risk my life at any cost. Control, my shrink said, was part of my M.O., but when it came to Sarah, I totally lost it.
Getting a hold of myself with a deep breath, I speed dialed Olga at the next red light. Don’t ask me how, but I had a hunch that Sarah and that little Latin
“Las sendeces!” barked an incensed Fernando. “That’s harassment. You’ve got to talk to human resources. Pronto! ”
I brushed away my tears to no avail. “I can’t. She’ll twist and turn things around, and I’ll end up losing my job. I won’t be able to help pay for my mother’s treatments.”
“What do you mean?” asked my puzzled friend.
I sobbed, “Oh, Fernando, the federal grant covering my mother’s treatments is expiring, and her insurance company won’t pay a dime because they’re experimental.”
“What about another insurance company?”
“I’m looking for one that will help defray the exorbitant cost, but it’s taking time and even if I do find one, the coverage will only be partial.” I sniffled loudly, choking out the next words. “And it may be too late.”
“ Mí pobrecita !” His voice full of compassion, he gave me a bear hug. It didn’t help me feel better. Nor did my third margarita, which I polished off quickly.
Recklessly, I ordered another one, despite Fernando’s protest, and with my tears salting the contents, I downed it. Despite the chill of the drink which sailed through my system, I felt my temperature rising. As sweat beads clustered on my forehead, nausea rose to my chest and the room began to spin. I blinked my eyes hard. There wasn’t one Fernando in front of me—but two!
What was happening? Unable to shake the sickening dizziness, I started to sway on my stool.
“ Mí amor , are you okay?” asked a concerned Fernando.
“I don’t think so.”
“ Vámonos. ”
I could barely stand up. Letting me lean on him, Fernando led me out of the bar. Each unsure step was a stumble. The world around me was spinning out of control, the sounds of the crowd, a dull cacophonous roar.
Once outside, I spilled my guts. The waves of nausea kept coming and coming. Even when there was nothing left inside me, I kept heaving. I had never been drunk in my entire life. Never. Or thrown up so much. The loss of my Trainman had driven me to drink. Driven me to behavior that had no right to be part of my being.
While I cried frightened tears, Fernando held my clammy hand and hailed a cab. One thankfully came quickly and Fernando helped me inside. I laid my head on his shoulder as blackness claimed me.
Ari
F uck. Shit. Fuck.
I’d set myself up for disaster.
I’d met Sarah’s boyfriend face to face.
And he’d turned me into a monster, bringing out that extreme jealous and possessive side of me that was reserved only for her.
I swear I would have bashed his pretty face in if Sarah hadn’t gotten in the way. Lowering my fist was next to impossible. I waited too long. In retrospect, I should have sent him crawling when the douchebag crushed his lips on hers.
Seething, I clenched my steering wheel as I headed uptown in the damn rush hour traffic. Yeah. I should have given it to him. Ruined that pretty face of his and claimed her right then and there. Fuck rational thinking.
So far the person who was spying on him had come up with nothing. Olga, Vadim’s wife. She’d done a stakeout of the Sutton Place building where Sarah’s boyfriend resided, but had seen neither of them emerge in the morning or afternoon. She knew what both of them looked like—Sarah from her stay in the Hamptons and Fernando from the photo I’d taken of him earlier.
Frustrated and furious, I thought about stopping for a drink to chill out, but I was afraid in my state I’d drink too much and do something foolish. Like get into a bar room brawl or even worse, an accident. I had a son. A son I loved and needed as much as the air I breathed, and I couldn’t risk my life at any cost. Control, my shrink said, was part of my M.O., but when it came to Sarah, I totally lost it.
Getting a hold of myself with a deep breath, I speed dialed Olga at the next red light. Don’t ask me how, but I had a hunch that Sarah and that little Latin
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