LOGINThe apartment was on the fourth floor of a building that had seen better days. Probably in the seventies.
I stood in the doorway with the last of my boxes, staring at the empty space that was supposed to be my fresh start. The walls were beige, that sad kind of beige that wasn’t trying to be neutral, just existing because no one had bothered to paint over it. The floor was worn hardwood, scratched and dull, with a stain near the window that looked suspiciously like old water damage. One room. That was it. One room that served as bedroom, living room, and whatever else I needed it to be. A tiny kitchen area shoved into the corner with a two-burner stove, a mini fridge that hummed louder than it should, and about two feet of counter space. The bathroom was through a door so narrow I had to turn sideways to get my boxes through. But it had a window, a decent sized one that looked out onto the street below, letting in natural light that made the beige walls look slightly less depressing. “It’s not bad,” I said out loud, testing the words. They felt like a lie, but I said them again anyway. “It’s not bad for a fresh start.” The door clicked shut behind me, and suddenly the space felt even smaller. This was my home now. Not the townhouse with its exposed brick and vintage light fixtures, not the place where Ethan and I had slow danced in the kitchen and made love on lazy Sunday mornings. This cramped studio apartment in Queens that had taken every penny of my savings just to get into. First month’s rent, last month’s rent and security deposit. Jessica had tried to negotiate the broker’s f*e down, but the landlord wouldn’t budge. Three thousand dollars gone just like that, the money I’d been saving for years for emergencies or maybe a dream vacation, just gone. Although I never thought a day like this would come, that’s why it’s always good to save, no matter how little it is. I had eight hundred dollars left in my account, to feed myself until I found a job. Eight hundred dollars that absolutely could not go toward furniture or anything that wasn’t survival. I dropped the box I was holding and looked around at my pile of belongings, suitcases of clothes, boxes of books and picture frames, kitchen stuff I didn’t have room for, my lamp, and some few throw pillows. All of them sat in the middle of the empty floor because I had nothing to put them on. There was no bed, couch, table or chairs. It was just the floor and my stuff. I started unpacking slowly, my body still aching from last night with that motherfucker and from hauling boxes up four flights of stairs because the elevator was broken. I hung my clothes in the narrow closet that barely fit half my wardrobe. The rest were folded and stacked along the wall. The books went under the window in neat piles and the kitchen stuff in the cabinets, though I didn’t have much, just a few pots, some plates, mugs and silverware. I spread my bedding out in the corner farthest from the door, making a little nest on the hardwood floor with the sheets, blankets, and pillows. It looked pathetic, like a child’s fort, but it would have to do. The bathroom was the only part of the apartment that wasn’t terrible. It was small, but clean and manageable. It has white subway tiles that were a little cracked but not gross, and a shower with decent water pressure, which I tested immediately. The mirror above the sink was spotty, and the light fixture flickered when I turned it on, but what was I expecting? Definitely not something better than this. I caught my reflection and almost didn’t recognize myself. My hair was all over the place, tangled and greasy. My face was pale and drawn, dark circles adorned under my eyes that made me look ten years older. I looked exactly like someone whose life had fallen apart. “You need a job,” I said to myself. “Right now, today.” My degree was in Marketing and Communications from NYU. I’d graduated with honors, done internships at good companies, and worked my way up at Carter & Associates for six years. I was good at my job. Social media management, campaign development, and brand strategy. I could write copy, design graphics, and analyze metrics. I could get a job anywhere anytime. I had to get a job.Back at my desk I spent the afternoon trying to focus on work and mostly failing. Tuesday passed without incident, while wednesday arrived and with it my consultation with Diana Reeves.Her office was in Midtown, sixteenth floor, all clean lines and quiet authority. She was in her late forties with natural gray streaks in her dark hair and the kind of calm focused energy that made you believe she’d seen everything and nothing surprised her anymore.She listened to my entire story without interrupting once. The birthday party. The photos. Ethan throwing me out. The email about the joint accounts and the house.When I finished she was quiet for exactly five seconds.“First things first,” she said. “You have more rights than he’s implying. Significantly more.”Something unknotted in my chest. “Really?”“New York is an equitable distribution state. That means marital assets are divided fairly, not necessarily equally, but fairly. The house, the joint accounts, any investments made during
Monday morning arrived with sharp cold that reminded you winter was coming whether you were ready for it or not. I was already up at six, dressed by seven, sitting at my small desk with a cup of coffee, with my laptop opened, searching for divorce lawyers in Manhattan. The kind that were good but not so expensive that I’d burn through the last of my savings before the case even started.It was harder than I expected. Every website looked the same with professional headshots and promises of aggressive representation and confidential consultations. Words designed to make desperate people feel like they were in capable hands.I didn’t feel capable of anything right now. But I was trying.I narrowed it down to three names. All women, which felt important for reasons I couldn’t fully articulate. All with strong reviews and reasonable consultation fees. I sent emails to all three before leaving for work, explaining my situation briefly and asking for the earliest available appointment.The
The phone nearly slipped out of my hand.I read the message three more times, standing barefoot on the sidewalk outside my building, the cool concrete biting into my feet. The more I looked at the picture, the more my stomach drop a little further.*Didn’t waste any time did you? Whore.*Unknown number with nothing to identify who was on the other end.So someone has been there tonight. Sitting somewhere near that restaurant, close enough to photograph us through the window. Close enough to see Adrian’s hand cover mine, to watch me smile for the first time in weeks and decide to punish me for it.My eyes shot to the street around me instinctively. It was empty, with just parked cars and a couple walking their dog half a block away, not paying any attention to me.Whoever it was, they were already gone. Perhaps it was the same person that framed me with those pictures.I took the elevator up to my apartment with shaking hands and locked the door behind me, sliding the chain across even
Friday came faster than I expected. The week had passed in a blur of new employee training, content calendars, brand guidelines, and trying to remember everyone’s names without looking at my phone under the desk. Work was actually good. Better than good. It gave me something to focus on besides the wreckage of my personal life, somewhere to put all the energy I’d been wasting on crying and replaying those horrible birthday party moments in my head.Sarah was a good manager. Direct and no nonsense but fair, the kind of person who would told you exactly what she wanted and left you alone to deliver it. She’d already given me two projects to run independently, social media campaigns for two of Rhode Enterprises’ smaller brands, and seemed genuinely pleased with my initial ideas.“You’re picking this up fast,” she’d said on Thursday, looking over my campaign proposal. “I expected at least two weeks before you were ready for independent work.”It felt really good to hear that. Like maybe I
We stood there in her living room, me crying and her holding me, until the buzzer rang with our food delivery.Natalie ordered me to wash my face while she got the food. By the time I came out of the bathroom with puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks, she had everything laid out on her coffee table. Pad thai, spring rolls, and curry that smelled amazing.I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to eat. Natalie was right, I needed to keep my strength up.“Marcus wants to meet with you,” Natalie said, spooning curry onto her plate. “He has questions about people in your life. Anyone who might have access to photos of you, anyone with technical skills, anyone who might have a motive.”“When?”“This weekend if you’re free. Saturday maybe?”I nodded, pushing noodles around my plate. “Did you hear back from Ethan? About meeting for coffee?”Natalie’s expression tightened. “Yeah. He said no.”“Of course he did.”“He was actually kind of rude about it. Said he had nothing to say to me and I should stop
I didn’t wait until I got home to call Natalie back. The second I stepped out of the building onto the Fifth Avenue, I hit redial, pressing the phone against my ear hard enough to hurt, but who cares?The street was packed with people rushing home from work, a river of suits and briefcases and exhaustion flowing around me.Pick up, pick up, pick up.“Ivy.” Natalie answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”“Just left work. What did Marcus find? What’s wrong?”“Are you somewhere you can talk? Like actually talk?”My stomach dropped. “Nat, you’re scaring me.”“I know. I’m sorry. But this isn’t a phone conversation. Can you come over?”“Now?”“Yeah. Please. I’ll order food. We can eat while we talk.”I looked at the subway entrance, then in the direction of Queens where my empty apartment waited. I didn’t want to go home, and sit alone with whatever bomb Natalie was about to drop.“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I said.The subway ride to Natalie’s neighborhood felt endless. My mind
Ivy’s POV The sheets smelled like expensive cologne and regret. The hotel room was too bright, sunlight pouring through those massive windows like it had a personal vendetta against my hangover. My head was pounding, my mouth tasted like something had died in it, and my body ached in places t
Ivy’s POV The bar smelled like whiskey and smoke. I slid onto a stool near the back, away from the handful of people scattered around the room. A basketball game played on the TV above the bar, but nobody seemed to be watching it. Everyone here looked like they were running from something, yeah
Ivy’s POV I didn’t sleep. How could I? Every time I close my eyes, I see those pictures haunting me. And the fact that nobody was on my side…that made it worse. I stayed curled up on our bed, still wearing my birthday dress, my mascara had dried in crusty streaks down my cheeks. The house was so q
Ivy’s POV“Make a wish, Ivy!” I stared at the candles flickering on the chocolate cake, their warm glow reflecting off the wine glasses scattered across our dining table. My cheeks hurt from smiling, but I didn’t care. Ethan’s hand rested on my lower back, his thumb drawing lazy circles through t







