find an apartment. On my salary.” She sniffed. “Do you know how much apartments cost?”
I didn’t say anything.
“And Michael,” she said. Her voice broke. “Michael won’t answer my calls. He blocked me. On
everything. He said I ruined his life. He said it was all my fault. He said I was the one who started it and I was the one who pushed and I was the one who kissed him in front of everyone and he never wanted any of it.” She was crying hard now. “He said I was a mistake, Jenna. He said I was
just a mistake.“
I sat on the edge of my bed in the dark.
For eight months, Rachel had wanted what I had. My husband. My life. The man who rewrote
chemistry notes. And for eight months, she had it. In secret. In hotels. In text messages on a twenty-dollar phone hidden in a glove compartment.
