A Four-Dollar Worn Shawl to Wear to Belle Meade
“He told me he never wants to see me again.”
I touched my collarbone.
The air conditioning blew cold on my neck.
Ethan had picked Vanessa over his own mother.
He had pointed at the door and ordered me out of his architecture firm.
The heavy wooden door had closed in my face.
“We’re going to see David,” I said.
“Right this minute.