Chapter 2

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Waking up to the sound of the alarm felt like the death of me. My head is pounding, and the hangover I am experiencing couldn't be worse. Pulling the covers over my head I try to lessen the noise. This isn't working. Reaching over I slam my hand down on top of the alarm to make it stop. As soon as it does, I feel myself relax a little. Slowly, I stumble over to the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink, and scan the shelves for some Tylenol. I pop a couple into my mouth, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen for some water. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.... I need water. Finding myself the biggest glass I could find, I fill it up and chug it down. 

Events of the previous night play in my mind, and I am filled with regret. It's not going to do my marriage any good with both of us screwing around, and yet... I can't seem to get Brad out of my head. Rick is right! This is partially my fault. I didn't fight hard enough to keep Brad from my mind. Images of the passionate night before start to play in my mind. No, no, no, no.... Get out of my head! It was the tequila. It wasn't me... I would have never done any of that had I been in my right mind. At least, that's what I'm going to tell myself to make sense of all this mess. 

Back upstairs I get myself ready for work. Splashing some cool water on my face I attempt to wake myself up. I place some concealer under my eyes to cover the dark circles I had received from the previous night. Little good that did... I still look like a train wreck. Ugh, why didn't I just go home after work?  I tell myself it's all going to be okay as I grab my phone and head back downstairs. Glancing down I see a missed call, and a text message from Brad. "I can't face him yet". I insert the phone into my pocket, grab an apple, and head out the door toward work. 

Work is busy as usual, and my phone lays on my desk tempting me with every second that passes. I finally shove it into a drawer and continue working. Work is the perfect distraction from the craziness that has now become my life. Around Noon Annabelle peeks her head in through the door. 

"Hi, Mrs. Winters, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch here in about 15 minutes or so? I was thinking of going to the Bagel Shop next door."

Annabelle is the sweetest! I look up from the paperwork in front of me, and send her a smile. "I would love to join you! Thank you so much for the invite. I'll meet you outside my office in fifteen." Annabelle nods, and shuts the door. After tidying up my desk I reach my hand into the drawer for my phone. Pulling it out, I shove it into my pocket and go to meet Annabelle outside my office. 

As soon as I step out the office door, I see Annabelle speaking with a fellow coworker. He's clearly flirting with her, and she is completely oblivious. Thoughts of when I first met Rick come to mind. I was just like Annabelle. I was shy, and being asked out by someone so established threw me off guard.  I had no idea why someone like Rick would have ever been interested in me. When he asked me to lunch, I was speechless. All I could do was stare and nod. Rick had given me the most charming smile knowing the effect he had on me. I feel my lips lift up at the memory. How different life was back then. How did things become such a disaster? My lips turn to a frown, and my eyes start to fill with tears. Looking away I wipe the tears from my eyes. I knew the answer. If I had known Rick would have an affair would I have married him? The answer is an obvious "NO".  

Turning my attention back to Annabelle. I see that the man has left, and she is making her way towards me. Her cheeks are red, and she looks slightly embarrassed from the attention she had just received. 

"Mrs. Winters, you ready?"

I smile at her, and push my train of thoughts to the back of my mind. Focussing 100% on Annabelle. "Please, call me Em, and yes, let's go." Annabelle smiles as we make our way to the elevator. "So... who was that charming young man you were talking to?" Annabelle's cheeks blush once again.

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