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My throat tightens a little. I sort of agree, but I’m realizing life really doesn’t work out like the movies do. Sometimes things are unfair, and they just remain unfair.
anything I do with you is like eating a single potato chip. All it does is remind me how much I love potato chips.”
what makes me unhappy right now is the fact that I wound up here in the first place. I never wanted this house. I never wanted the furniture we bought. I never wanted to live in the suburbs.
It was Jeff who wanted what we had, and I gave up everything again and again, without a fight. It’s almost as if I was scared to ever want anything of my own too much.
Caroline was right when she said I’d spent my life cowering. From my career choices to my boyfriend to the clothes I wore, my whole life has been about shrinking myself, trying to become less than what I was because it felt like the safest course. With Nick it no longer seems necessary.
Just after lunch I call her. My relief when she answers fades the moment I hear the choked sob in her voice. “What’s wrong?” I push the bedroom door closed behind me. “What happened?” She takes a deep inhale, trying to pull herself together. “I went to go get my stuff from Jeff’s. He showed up as I was leaving and…” I’m going to break every bone in his goddamn body if he laid a finger on her. “I thought he was out of town.”
He leads me to the path above the right bank of the Seine, where we end up walking mile after mile, solely because there’s never a point when I’m ready to stop looking. As soon as the Eiffel Tower fades from view, we are looking at Les Invalides and the Alexander III Bridge, leading to the Champs-Élysées, but I’m not ready to stop.
Authors have said shes sick But it hardly seems like this in the story
I run to a main road and call a car, urging the driver to hurry in my pathetic French. “Vite, s’il vous plait. C’est un…emergency.”
But he was locked in a cellar!!! How did he get out???
