“Megan—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the line went dead, and I realized we had been cut off. I paced up and down the hallway in front of the bathrooms, wondering how I was going to get through this day. How could this be true of Phil? He was a decent guy… He was a fucking fireman. It just didn’t make sense.
And yet… maybe it didn’t make sense because I didn’t want it to mean anything. I had been so in love with him right from the get-go that I had believed him completely when he told me about how he had turned his life around.
Twenty minutes later, I still hadn’t managed to calm down. I was still pacing when Marta found me. “There you are,” she said.
She stopped short when she saw the state I was in. “Darling girl,” she said, in a motherly voice. “Are you all right? What happened?”
Seeing the concern on her face, I just broke down. She hugged me tight and patted my head until I had calmed down enough to string a sentence together without sobbing.
“Phil just called me,” I told her. “From jail.”
“What?”
“He’s been arrested for possession of drugs.”
“No.”
“I can’t believe I fell for his lies.”
“Are you sure that the drugs are his?” Marta asked.
“Who else could it be?” I said. “I knew his past… He dealt drugs when he was younger, and his brother went to jail for it, but when he told me he changed his lifestyle and stayed away from all that shit, I actually believed him. He lied to me, Marta…”
“Oh, honey… What did he call to say?”
“He claims he’s innocent,” I replied.
“Did he give you a reason to back up that claim?”
“No,” I said, even though I didn’t mention that I hadn’t given him the opportunity to back it up. “Marta, I don’t know if I can get through work today.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, putting her hand on my arm. “Go into Kevin’s office and tell him you’re sick. I’ll vouch for you. You can take the rest of the day off.”
Grateful for the suggestion, I went in to see Kevin with my excuse ready. Because of my swollen face and my pale skin, Kevin believed that I was sick easily enough and let me off work, much to my relief. I gave Marta a quick thank you as I headed out, and then I went straight home. I walked through the door, ready to collapse onto the sofa and cry my eyes out when I realized that Brent was home.
I wiped away my tears hurriedly, upset that I wouldn’t have the privacy I craved. Brent looked carefully at my face, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide this from him.
“Whoa… Who died?” Brent asked, straightening up a little.
“Have you heard?” I asked.
He frowned. “Heard what?”
“About Phil?”
Brent looked even more confused. “What about Phil? Did he save another cat or something?”
“He’s in jail,” I said, in no mood for jokes.
Brent stood up. “What?”
“He called me from there,” I stammered. “He was caught with drugs.”
“No fucking way,” he said, shaking his head.
“He says he’s innocent—”