… There was her signature, clearly encouraging my boyfriend to leave me. The rumors, the lies, the photographs – could they all be true?
… The words jumped off the page like a sharp dagger into my heart.
“No. Damn It! NO!” I cried out. “No! He loves me! Me, not her!”
Did he really fly me down here to break up with me or wasn’t I supposed to see this little remnant of his infidelity?
How could he do this to me? Would he really be that coldhearted, leaving this behind for me to read?
Why not? After all, Thomas did it to me.
No, Ryan is not like that. He is a good person… who is cheating on me.
I started to hyperventilate. A million pictures flashed through my mind... Ryan kissing my hand, his smile that made my heart flutter, hearing his voice say he loves me a thousand times.
No, there has to be a rational explanation for this! There has to be! I staggered slightly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
My foot stepped onto something on the floor, right next to where my suitcase was placed. I bent to pick up the shimmery fabric. As I unraveled it, I discovered that in my hands was a pair of black silk women’s panties. Like creeping death, more evidence of his infidelity unfolded to me. Visions of him with Lauren, making love to her in this bed right in front of me, snuffed out every one of my joyous memories.
My cell phone shrilled in my pocket, startling me. My pulse quickened and I recoiled back, almost falling over my own feet.
“Hello?” I answered in between sobs.
“Is this Taryn Mitchell?” the male voice inquired abruptly.
“Yes. Who is this?” I muttered, wiping my cheek on my sleeve.
“It’s not important. Write down this address,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, muffled.
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
“He is with her right now,” the stranger informed. “We’re taking pictures of them together. Get a pen.”
While I listened to the clicking sounds of a camera, I scrambled to the desk and found a hotel tablet – the same stationary that Lauren used.
“Do you have a pen?” the man yelled.
“Yes, but I don’t understand.”
“You need to see the truth. Hurry. The hotel will get a taxi for you. Come to 2950 West Palermo Avenue - the restaurant on the corner. Shoot that… he’s kissing her again! Ah! He is so busted! 2950 West Palermo.”
“Who is this?” I asked. “Hello?”
I tore the paper off the pad and grabbed my purse.
“2950 West Palermo,” I read the address to the taxi driver and then shoved the paper back in my pocket. The rain came down in buckets, causing the car headlights to glare off the windshield. The skies were pitch black from the storm blasting Miami. The dark and ominous clouds brought the wind, which caused the rain to blow sideways. Loud thunder started to rumble between the lightning flashes.
I sat on the edge of the back seat, staring wildly out the front window of the taxi. I saw the road sign indicating Palermo Ave. My throat became tight with anticipation.
The taxi driver pulled over to the curb.
“2950 Palermo.” The driver pointed at the tall office building. “That’ll be fourteen-fifty.”
I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet; my hand shook as I handed it to him.
“Do you want a receipt?” he asked in a rough voice.
“No,” I said quickly, my hand was already pulling the lever on the door.
I gave the cab door a shove and hurried through the rain towards the shelter of the entrance. Frightening thunder rumbled through the sky; the earsplitting crack made me instinctively duck while it echoed loudly off of the tall buildings. I flinched from the sound; knowing my luck I’d probably get struck by lightning today too.
I looked at the big numbers on the gray stone building… 2950. It was a bank with several floors of offices above it.
I was utterly confused. What the? Was someone playing a cruel joke on me – sending me on some wild goose chase? I pulled the paper back out of my pocket to double check the address, but instead of the address, I was looking at Lauren’s note again. The note I held in my hand was definitely not a joke.
Restaurant on corner, my memory informed quickly. I looked up and down the street, unsure of which way to go. I was in the center of the block.
Fueled by the evidence clutched in my hand, I started walking fast down the sidewalk. The rain soaked through my clothes; my wet feet slipped uncomfortably inside my leather boots. My hair that was once nicely done was completely drenched. I shivered from the wind and pulled my purse back up on my shoulder.