Sticks & Stones.

10

"Prices for 3 bedrooms in this neighborhood have gone up 20% more than the rest of the city. There's also a great new coffee shop right around the corner, along with my personal favorite salon, Salon Pascal Bensimon." Sherry boasted as we toured the 2,534 square foot condo. I clutched my bag while walking on her heels—in awe at the city views and how the sun beamed through nearly every window in the home. It was beautiful. "Feel free to look around while I take this phone call." She encouraged.

I took her advice and walked in the living room. The previous owners took great care of this place and shared a similar taste with me. What caught my eye was the towering wall of quartzite that reached all the way up to the rafters. What a stunning focal point.

I glanced out of the large window and took a deep breath. I was looking for another place to live...alone. I may be jumping the gun since I hadn't brought up my plans to put a hold on Mateo and I's marriage but I needed to be prepared. I wanted to follow through with nearly everything so he couldn't have the opportunity to change my feelings about anything.

During this marriage, while he worked and insisted on paying every bill that came our way, I focused on the stock market. I kept a separate account with a decent amount of 'fall-back' money in case anything happened. What started off as a simple hobby turned out to be the jackpot for me—with the money I was able to earn, I had money put up for the kids and I. I felt a little selfish for not telling anyone about all the money I accumulated over the time but this was my dirty little secret. I wasn't ditzy enough to let a man financially control my life; no matter how good things seemed.

I thought about how Mateo would take the news but truly, I didn't give a damn. I love him, yes. But I love me too and I spent too long neglecting myself. I hadn't done something for me in a while. Besides, this little apartment wouldn't put a dent in my wallet—it'll be my beautiful, little escape. The kids' rooms will be decorated to their liking and I'll have the luxury of designing the home of my dreams. One that won't be cold and lonely. Instead, it'll be lively and homey. No rhyming intended.

"So how are we feeling? I must say, this home really fits you, Mr.West," Sherry waltzed into the living room.

"I'll take it."

~

My next stop was the salon that Sherry wouldn't stop raving about. Salon Pascal Bensimon. I stared up at the tall building, impressed by the luxury look. When I walked inside, it felt like everyone snapped their necks trying to get a good look at me—dressed in a white pantsuit, a pair of Louis Vuitton sandals, Chanel sunglasses and a matching Louis Vuitton tote. I usually wasn't this flashy but I needed to impress. Look like money and they'll treat you as such.

The shop was loaded with high-end salon chairs, a bar, chandeliers, mini fridges and plenty of other bougie shit that white people liked with their touched up roots and overpriced facials.

"Hello," A cheery woman greeted me with a porcelain smile. "How can we help you today? Care for a drink?"

"No, thank you." I smiled after rubbing my lips together, making sure they were fully coated with gloss. "I'm actually looking for the owner." I said, leaning against the desk. My smile hadn't faltered, even when hers did.

"Follow me." She said and turned around. I was striding beside her all the way to the secluded office in the back of the salon. "Give me a moment." She stepped inside, closing the door quickly. It took around five minutes for her to come back out with the same porcelain smile. "You can go inside."

"Thank you so much, hun," I nodded towards her. "And your name?"

"Ariel." She said before turning away.