Could you spare me a minute? I need to make a call. That's the next thing I say, I don't want any more arguments tonight. I don't have my cellphone with me and I need to call a friend.
"I assume that if you don't have your cellphone, you also don't have money, let alone cards. Let's go."
He says as he gets out.
"Where?"
"I stayed here, I never said I have a house in this city. And since you don't want my money, I'll let you wait for your friend in my room. You wouldn't want to be outside dressed as a bride with smudged makeup, not to mention what's left of your hairstyle." I can only roll my eyes. He hands the car keys to a hotel employee, who takes care of parking it.
I quicken my pace to enter the hotel quickly, he effortlessly keeps up, obviously his long legs allow him to do so without any effort.
We enter the elevator and I realize that his words fell short when I discover in the mirror how disastrous my appearance is. A tear escapes and I try to discreetly wipe it away before he notices, but it seems to be in vain, yet he makes no comment, which I appreciate.
Once we enter the presidential suite, which clearly shows how ostentatious this man is, I collapse onto a armchair and rest my elbows on my knees, causing the veil to cover my face. In a fit of anger, I tear it off regardless of the pain it causes me. I look at the dress and start tearing off the layers of tulle that cover it, tears threatening to fall, but I won't cry, no, I won't. I lift my gaze and meet a gaze filled with pity.
"Don't you dare look at me like that again!" I threaten him, pointing my index finger at him. He raises his hands in surrender.
"I haven't said anything."
"You didn't lend me the cellphone."
He hands it to me and I can see a photo of a beautiful woman on the background, apparently a couple of years older than me. I imagine she's the reason he's so eager for a divorce, I won't dwell on it and dial Elena's number.
"Hello." Upon hearing her voice, I can only sob. "Anna, my friend, is that you?"
He heads to the balcony, apparently understanding that I need privacy. Once he does, I break down in tears.
"I need you."
"Where are you? I'll be right there." She gives me the directions and says she'll be with me in an hour.
"Thank you." I address my husband, of whom I still don't know the name and hand him the cellphone.
"Do you want to use the bathroom?" He asks me.
"Please, I'd like to shower, it's just that I don't have any clothes to wear."
"I'll lend you something."
"Thank you," I say and head to the bathroom.
I see the bathtub, but I prefer using the shower. I let the water fall onto my hair and body, hoping it washes away this feeling of emptiness I have, not because of Matt, but because I feel that the two people who should have supported me from the beginning turned their backs on me. After about twenty minutes, I decide it's enough, I step out of the shower, look at myself in the mirror, and see my smudged makeup still on my face. I try to clean it with a cream I find on the shelf where only masculine products are kept. I sigh and do the best I can, although I know I fail in the attempt. I have two options to leave the bathroom: a short towel and a large bathrobe, obviously the one he uses, but it doesn't matter, I prefer to be bold and not show everything. When I come out, I realize he has taken off his coat, his white shirt is only half-buttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks the same or even better than in my memories. He has his gaze fixed on a laptop, as he sits on the bed. He looks up and raises an eyebrow.
"I said I would lend you the bathroom, not my bathrobe." I shrug. He gets up and opens a suitcase, apparently he hasn't unpacked, he takes out a white shirt and a new boxer, as it still has the tag on it, and hands them to me.
"You're dreaming if you think I'm going to walk semi-naked in front of you."
"Oh no? Well then, get undressed." I go to his suitcase and take out a pair of athletic pants and a black t-shirt. "I look at him and, just like him before, raise an eyebrow, take the boxer shorts, and head back to the bathroom."
A couple of minutes later, I'm ready. When I come out, he's no longer there, but he left a note.
"I had to leave. If you change rooms, don't forget to leave me the number, we need to finish this soon."
I sigh and collapse onto the bed.
It doesn't take long for someone to call the room, announcing Elena's arrival.
"Mrs. Thompson, Miss Elena Garces requests to come up to your room."
"There must be a mistake, my last name isn't Thompson."
"Your husband, Mr. Nicolas Thompson, requested to be informed as soon as his friend arrived" So, that's her name.
"Of course, I don't know where my head is. Please, let her in."
"With pleasure."
I open the door for Elena, and once she enters, I close it and collapse into her arms, crying. She drops what she's carrying to embrace me, and that's how we stay for around ten minutes. Once I calm down, she lifts my face.
"Look at yourself, princess, come here" She takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, sitting next to me with some bags she had left on the floor. From her purse, she pulls out micellar water and gently cleans my face. "That's better. Take this" She hands me the bags, and I look inside to find clothes and shoes.
"Thank you" I start crying again, and she hugs me once more.
"Now, tell me, what's his name?"
I straighten up and look into her eyes.
"His name is Nicolas Thompson."
"How did you end up getting married?"
I bring my hands to my face in frustration.
"I don't even know myself, but just as quickly as I got married, I'll get divorced. Actually, that's why he came."
"Did he go through all that trouble just to ask for a divorce? That's weird."
"If he hadn't done it, I would have done it myself. I mean, I didn't plan to live with a complete stranger."
"A stranger who looks incredibly attractive." I look at her and roll my eyes. "What? Don't look at me like that; credit where credit's due. And he's got it all."
"I've seen better."
"Seriously? Which ones? Name them."
We both laugh.
"Not many, but they exist." We burst into laughter again.
"Well, now then, tell me, how can I help you?"
"I need money. I left everything at my parents' house, and I don't have cash or cards with me."
"How much?"
"I don't know, enough to survive a couple of days until I gather enough courage to go back to my parents' house."
"Would ten thousand dollars be enough?"
"Of course. I'll pay you back within two days at the latest."
"No rush. We haven't even gone over this month's balances. The company keeps growing."
Elena and I started a successful shipping company, which has become one of the best in the country. It has nothing to do with our English literature studies, but it generates good profits that I am grateful for to this day, as I don't depend on my parents.
"Thank you" I sigh deeply as I utter that word.
"You'd do the same for me. Take it, I brought it in cash, I knew you'd need it. Now change; that outfit looks terrible." She grimaces in disapproval.
I change clothes, we take the things she brought for me, and we head down to the reception where I check in and get a room. Elena accompanies me. It's not as luxurious as the suite "my husband" is staying in, but it's very comfortable. The five-star hotel guarantees that.
Elena insists I go to her house, but I don't want to encounter her parents; I don't know what perception they have of me at the moment.
"Well, now that you're all settled, I'm leaving. Call me if you need anything, no matter the time."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I give her a tight hug and walk her to the door.
Once she's gone, the loneliness returns. I take out pajamas - this woman thought of everything, even underwear - change, and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day.
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