(Highest ranking: #253 in Chicklit - 3 October 2017) Cynthia finds lipstick on her husband's shirt and it isn't her shade. She goes out for a walk trying to process the shocking news of her husband's infidelity, and that's when she finds Stacy, a wo...
Stacy was planning to put the book down at the end of the chapter and go make herself some breakfast. But apparently, the "page turner" comment on the book's cover was honest. The cliffhanger at the end made it impossible for her to avoid reading on to the next chapter.
She had bought the mystery book on one of her walks home. She remembered reading a mystery book in high school and liking it. That's what drew her to that section of the bookstore. She had been wanting to start reading for a while now, but her fear was always that it wasn't for her. She was part of the scum of society, and reading was for elites. Wasn't it?
On her new laptop, she had Mozart playing. Was she allowed to like it? She did. Earlier in the morning, she had Googled a couple of universities in town. She had dared to click on the admission pages. She felt like a rebel.
It was a couple of chapters later when she finally decided to go make that breakfast. Usually, it would be some two-minute sandwich with coffee. But today, she poured some muesli and yogurt into a bowl, added some strawberries to it, and decided to make a smoothie to wash it all down. Breakfast of the elites.
She wanted to know what it felt like to be on the other side. In some of her wildest dreams, she thought of her own wedding. She dreamt of getting married and having kids like Cynthia.
Just as she was thinking of Cynthia, she heard a ping on her phone. The message read, "Hey, it's Cynthia. Sorry, I forgot to text yesterday." Occupied with eating her breakfast, Stacy decided to call instead of texting back.
"Hey, Cynthia! Took you long enough. How's the weekend?" she said when Cynthia answered.
"Sorry about that. Yesterday was a little challenging."
"Does that mean you finally..."
"No!" Cynthia interrupted. "I didn't. Just found more evidence though." Cynthia's voice trailed off.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright," Cynthia responded. "Hey, I'm alone with the kids today. Are you busy?"
"Not really."
"Wanna come over? I can come pick you up."
"I'll send you my location. I live at the Oxford Plaza in the South."
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