Isaac did me a huge favor and left while I was still hugging the porcelain throne in the bathroom, though it did take some cajoling on my behalf. He didn’t want to leave me alone when I was obviously still so drunk and distraught. But he didn’t understand, he couldn’t possibly understand, just how distraught I actually was.

Yes, Jack and I were separated.

Yes, I was drunk.

Yes, I thought I was dreaming about Jack.

Yes, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted him before.

No, none of those facts superseded the cold, hard fact that I had cheated on my husband. I was a whore.

I woke with my head resting on the toilet seat. I didn’t feel like I’d been asleep long because the numbing effects of the alcohol hadn’t completely worn off. Grabbing the edge of the pedestal sink, I pulled myself upright. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and almost vomited again. Blonde bird’s nest around my head, mascara bruises around my eyes, pink scrape across my cheek. I shook my head as I vaguely recalled doing a face-plant on the porch.

They needed to invent a new word for whatever was worse than a hot mess.

Looking away from the mirror, I turned on the water in the shower. As I began to undress, I let out a pitiful wail when realized I was only wearing the silky mustard-yellow cashmere sweater I’d worn for my birthday celebration. I was naked from the waist down.

I gripped the sides of the sink as I vomited into the basin. My stomach was empty. I had nothing left to give but the bitter bile at the base of my pathetic existence.

I gracelessly tore the sweater off and climbed over the bathtub ledge into the shower. The water scalded me, burning away my tears, disinfecting me. I scrubbed myself raw, my bright-pink skin doing nothing to quell my guilt. I sunk to the floor of the tub, hugging my knees as the shower’s stream battered the back of my head.

Even as the bathroom filled with thick steam, I could still feel the cold sweat that preceded another mouthful of bile rising in my throat. I spit out the bitter yellow fluid onto the floor of the tub and tilted my head back, letting my mouth fill with hot water. I swished it around, then I opened my mouth, letting the tainted mouthwash dribble out the sides of my mouth.

When the palms of my hands began to prune, I knew I needed to get out of the shower, before I disintegrated and went swirling down the drain. I made a half-hearted effort to towel-dry my hair, but I couldn’t be bothered to turn the light on in my old bedroom to search for a nightgown. I didn’t want to face the rumpled sheets.

Instead, I grabbed the wastebasket in the bathroom and dragged my naked body to the guest bedroom. Slipping under the cold sheets, I hugged the covers to my bare bosom and cried. Shivering with cold and trembling with guilt, I managed to fall asleep again without vomiting.

The next time I woke, the sun had risen, casting a buttery glow over the gray comforter and the pine nightstand. Glancing at the alarm clock, the red numbers told me it was 9:21 a.m.

I had no idea what time it was when I took my shower and went to bed. But the mild soreness in my chest muscles and inner thighs told me it couldn’t have been too long after Drea and Dylan left. It took a while for delayed onset muscle soreness to manifest in overworked muscles.

Jack taught me that.

He also taught me that the soreness wasn’t caused by lactic acid buildup in the muscles, as most people assumed. The pain was caused by microscopic tears in the muscle, caused by overworking them or using them in ways they hadn’t been used in a long time.

I couldn’t remember what happened with Isaac very well. All my brain could call forth was flashes of the encounter. My uncoordinated fingers fumbling in the darkness as I tried to find his zipper… The way his erection filled my mouth… Tilting my head back as I rode him… Being rolled onto my back… The pleasant shock as he slid into me… The sheer happiness of finding Jack in my dreams… The unpleasant shock of being awoken by Isaac’s voice… Isaac’s cum dripping out of me as I kneeled in front of the toilet.

Oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God. He came inside me? Was I remembering that correctly?

I leaped out of bed and raced to my old bedroom and snatched up the wastebasket next to the bed. I upended it, but nothing came out. I looked inside and saw only the white plastic bin liner. Maybe he flushed the condom? He didn’t have unprotected sex with me, did he?

No. That didn’t sound like something Isaac would do.

My stomach muscles contracted and the bed swayed beneath me as I realized I didn’t really know Isaac. Not well enough to know if that was something he would do.

“Oh, God.” The pictures on the walls were a dizzying blur as I raced to the bathroom and dry heaved over the toilet for a few minutes.

I needed emergency contraceptives.

Shaky and covered in perspiration, I tried to ignore the splitting hangover headache and intense nausea as I turned on the water to take another shower. I needed to wash away the sweat. Then, I would put on some clothes and drag myself to the drugstore.

It was an excellent plan.

But by the time the hot steam filled the bathroom, I began to feel as if I were suffocating. I tried taking deep breaths despite the tightness in my achy chest muscles, but I soon realized I was swaying. I was going to pass out.

I turned off the shower and splashed water all over the floor as I rushed out into the hallway. I gulped the fresh air as if I were taking my first breath. As if I were being reborn.

I sobbed as I used the wall to steady myself. Making my way back to the guest bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed and pulled the covers over my damp body.

I would take a nap. I just needed to rest. When I woke, I would go to Walgreen’s. Just a nap.

Then, a sudden thought occurred to me. I didn’t need to go to the drugstore. This was Portland. I could order my morning after pills to be delivered to me.

Pulling on my bathrobe, I stumbled my way downstairs. I found my phone on the dining table, next to four empty bottles of prosecco and six empty bottles of beer. The sickly sweet smell of alcohol permeated the entire bottom floor of the house.

I snatched my phone off the table and breathed through my mouth as I got myself a box of crackers and a glass of water. Heading back upstairs, I took one careful sip of the life-giving liquid and waited a moment to make sure it wouldn’t come right back up.

When I was satisfied the gurgling in my stomach was mostly benign, I slipped beneath the covers in my bathrobe and opened the Postmates app on my phone. I placed my Walgreen’s order and put the delivery instructions in all caps: LEAVE THE ORDER IN MY MAILBOX. DO NOT KNOCK OR RING DOORBELL.

The last thing I needed right now was to see the face of the Postmates delivery person as they arrived with my pills.

Once I was certain the order had been accepted, I turned off my phone and hugged the extra pillow to my chest. I wanted to call Drea. No, I wanted to call Jack.

I hugged the pillow tighter, wishing madly that it still smelled like him. But it didn’t. Jack was gone. And so was I.

* * *

“Laurel, baby, wake up.”

My eyelids fluttered open at the sound of Jack’s voice, and my heartbeat came to a screeching halt when I saw him kneeling at my bedside. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, clutching at the sharp twinge in my chest as I realized I was either dreaming or so dehydrated I was hallucinating. I pulled the covers over my head to avoid any further torturous visions.

“Baby, look at me. Are you hungover? Do you need me to get you something?”

“Stop it. Please,” I begged my traitorous mind to stop playing tricks on me.

“I know I fucked up by missing your birthday, but I explained everything in the email. Did you read my email?”

My eyelids flew open as I slowly pushed the covers off my head. Jack was kneeling next to my bed, wearing a black long-sleeve T-shirt with the words Professional Asshole written in white block letters across his chest.

My entire body began to tremble. “Is it really you? I’m not dreaming?”

He chuckled and the sound stopped me cold. It was that gruff familiar tone that made my skin ache. I screamed as if I were being murdered, then I tossed away the covers and launched myself at him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I almost knocked him over.

He laughed harder now. “I guess that means you’re happy to see me?”

“Yes,” I whispered through my tears. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

The warmth of his solid arms buoyed me so I felt weightless. I was actually floating. Jack had stood up, lifting me off the floor.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he said, burying his face in my neck. “I’ve been a total fucking idiot, but I swear that’s over. We got him, baby. It’s over.”

The word “him” made my body tense. “What do you mean? Who got him?”

He gently set me down on the floor and looked down at me with confusion in his blue eyes. “You didn’t read my email?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t checked email for a couple of days.”

“Drea didn’t tell you to check your email?”

I blinked. “I very vaguely remember her telling me she sent me a gift card. I think she did tell me to check my email for the gift card, but I’ve been pretty hungover.”

He smiled and the sight of it made me ache in the deepest parts of my soul. “I can see that. The whole place smells like a frat house after a kegger.”

My shoulders slumped. “I think I drank away my sense of smell.”

He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my face up so he could get a good look at my face. “Did you sleep?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as images from last night’s encounter flashed in my mind. “Yes,” I whispered. “I slept a long time and I took another nap. I feel much better. Just a little thirsty.”

He kissed my forehead and grabbed the glass of water off the nightstand. “Drink some of this and we’ll get you some Gatorade on the way home.”

“Home?” I repeated the word as if he’d spoken a foreign language. “But you said you wanted a divorce.”

He fixed me with a quizzical expression. “You really didn’t read my email?”

“I was busy with birthday stuff,” I replied, slightly agitated at his disbelief. “I haven’t checked my email since the day before yesterday.”

He let out a soft sigh and sat on the edge, patting the mattress for me to join him. “Sit. There’s something I need to tell you.”

I stared at the space next to him as if it were a confessional. But Jack was not my priest. He was my husband. He wasn’t obligated to forgive me, just as I wasn’t obligated to forgive him for leaving our marriage in the dust a few weeks ago.

While I had betrayed our marriage, Jack had given up on it. Which was worse?

I sat on the bed next to him, thankful that his body weight made him sink farther down, the force of gravity pulling me toward him against my will. He accepted me into his arms and we sat like this for a long time. Maybe whatever Jack was going to tell me was worse than what I’d done, and that was why he needed time to work up his nerve.

He burrowed his nose in my hair and inhaled deeply before he loosened his hold on me so he could look me in the eye. “Last night, I was in Idaho accompanying the Boise PD and their SWAT division on a call. A murder suspect had barricaded himself in his home and was shooting at officers through the windows.”

My breathing quickened. “A murder suspect?”

He nodded as he realized I understood what that meant. “They’re running his DNA against the unknown male hair they found in our house, but… It’s him, baby. We found him.”

I clutched my fist against the sore muscles in my chest. “He’s in custody?”

The excitement in Jack’s face fizzled out. “He’s dead. He shot himself before he could be taken into custody.”

“Why do you not look happy? I thought that’s what you wanted. Did… Did he kill someone else?”

He shook his head, but the regret in his face did not dissipate. “It’s a lot more complicated than that. And I promise I will tell you all the details. But right now, I want to talk about you. Drea told me you’re working on an app.”

The proud smile on his face brought tears to my eyes.

“I am. I’m working on a couple of apps.”

He reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek. “I always knew you’d do great things.”

“It’s a drinking game app,” I replied, laughing through my tears.

“Is there anything more noble?” he asked with the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen.

He was back. The Jack I fell in love with died in that bathroom two years ago. But somehow, miraculously, he’d been resurrected. The hardness in his eyes was wiped away, replaced with that familiar gleam of confidence. The note of cynicism in his words had been replaced with hope.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling me close again. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for every day I wasn’t there for you.”

I sniffed loudly. “You’re not the only one who should be apologizing.”

“I am today. I’m the professional asshole, remember?” he said with a chuckle as he let me go so he could get down on one knee.

“What are you doing?”

“I promise I will never again go a day without making it known that you’re my world,” he said, grabbing my hand and planting a soft kiss on my knuckles. “I will be the man I promised to be when I stood on that altar five years ago. I will love you and protect you for the rest of my days. I will hold you when you’re hurting. I’ll be your light in this dark and fucked-up world.” He clenched his jaw and gave my hand a gentle squeeze as he seemed overcome by a wave of emotion. “I know I’m not perfect. I know our hearts have been broken beyond belief.

“But I also know that you’re my best friend, and the only woman strong enough to pull me out of the darkness and tender enough to handle my heart.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his phone, and turned the screen toward me to show me a photo of a field of grass surrounded by tall evergreen trees. “I just bought this sixteen-acre parcel in Sherwood. It’s pretty close to Intel, so there should be a large pool of tech talent for us to start a new business together.”

“But what about Kent?”

He shook his head. “I’m done with Halo. Larry’s already negotiating my buyout package. Let’s do something meaningful. Together.”

Larry Goodman was Jack’s attorney. If he was having Larry negotiate his buyout package, he was serious. Jack’s stake in Halo was worth at least $300 million.

“So this plot of land is to build an office building?” I asked, somewhat confused.

He laughed as he tucked his phone into his back pocket. “No, I’ll get an office near Intel. The land is for us to build a house, or two.”

“Two?”

“Well, we’ll need one for us and maybe… one for Drea and Barry. Barry’s leaving Halo and coming with me. I want to rebuild our home together, from the ground up. And I want you to choose how many bedrooms we have… for the kids. Happy birthday, baby.”

I covered my face to hide what was surely a hideously potent ugly-cry.

He chuckled as he pried my hands from my face and placed a soft kiss on each of my cheeks. “And you can build as many greenhouses as you need to create the right conditions to grow these.”

He reached into his other back pocket, then handed me a small ziplock bag no bigger than the palm of my hand. The bag was filled with a few dozen seeds. And the sticker affixed to the outside of the bag read: Middlemist Red.

I closed my fist around the bag to minimize the trembling in my hand. “But these don’t grow anywhere outside the UK and New Zealand,” I blubbered.

He grabbed my face and brushed his thumbs over my cheeks as he spoke softly. “If anyone can make those seeds bloom, it’s you.”

He took the seeds from my hand and placed the bag on the nightstand next to my box of crackers. Then, he pushed my knees apart so he could get closer.

He planted a tender kiss on the tip of my nose, and fixed me with a fierce gaze. “I haven’t told you this enough over the last two years, but you were, without a doubt, the best mother Junior could have hoped for.”

I wanted to wrap my arms and legs around him and squeeze tightly, the way I often used to do on lazy Saturday mornings. I would pretend to be too tired to get out of bed so he could carry me out of the bedroom. He’d usually set me down on the kitchen counter and allow me to be the official taster as he made breakfast.

Could I just coil my arms around him and turn back time? Could I pretend that the last few months never happened? Could I really keep this kind of secret from Jack?

I needed time to weigh the consequences. I couldn’t make this kind of decision on an empty stomach. And suddenly I was ravenous.

“I’m hungry,” I said the words aloud, surprising myself as much as him.

His hands had been resting on my hips, but he slid them forward and grabbed the tie on my bathrobe, giving it a soft pull. “So am I,” he murmured.

My body flooded with every good chemical it had on tap as he slowly opened the robe to expose my left breast. He laid his cheek against my nipple and it puckered as he brushed his stubble over the firm flesh. My breathing quickened as he slid his hand inside the robe, his thumb grazing my right breast as it skimmed past it, landing on the middle of my back.

“Jack,” I whispered as he laid a soft trail of kisses from my breastbone up to my collarbone.

“I’m giving you my heart again, pixie. And I’m not leaving here without yours,” he murmured against the curve of my neck. “You know why?”

“Why?” I breathed.

He planted soft, closed-mouth kisses up my neck and along my jawline. “Because I love you more than you can imagine.”

I drew in a sharp, stuttered breath and tried not to sob as I replied, “I can’t imagine loving anyone more.”

His lips landed softly over mine as his left hand cradled the back of my head and his right arm tightened around my waist. He lifted me slightly and scooted me up so my head was lying on the pillow. My bathrobe fell open as he positioned himself between my legs, propping himself up on his elbows so he could gaze down at me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, brushing wisps of hair out of my eyes.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to blurt it out before I could stop myself. But I couldn’t look into those blue eyes, the eyes that cried a thousand tears when Junior died, and rip his heart out. Again.

I had never known what it meant to hate yourself. I often wondered if people who hated themselves were just exaggerating. They didn’t like themselves, maybe. But hate? It seemed impossible to hate the person you were.

Now I understood. I hated me.

I didn’t deserve Jack. But Jack didn’t deserve to have his heart broken if I told him the truth. It was a catch-22 that would torment me for as long as I kept this poisonous secret. And I would deserve every single second of that torment.

“God, you smell so good,” he growled into my ear as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

My arms folded around his shoulders, squeezing him so tightly I could hardly breathe. Clutching him like a tightrope between two high-rises. Yet, it wasn’t tight enough.

I wanted to envelop him in my arms, to press myself into him so hard, there would be no distinguishing where he ended and I began.

He chuckled as I squeezed harder. “I missed you too, pixie.”

I shook my head as I pressed my lips to his ear. “I don’t ever want to lose you again,” I whispered through tears.

He managed to pry himself free enough to look down at me. “You’re not going to lose me,” he replied fiercely. “I know I haven’t been there for you. Both of us were just existing. We weren’t living. But I don’t want to just exist with you anymore. I want to exist in you.” He placed his heavy hand over my heart. “Just your heart and mine. For better or worse.”

My skin tingled as his fingers skimmed over the sensitive skin covering my ribs, landing beneath my breast. He brushed his thumb over my nipple, smiling as the flesh pebbled at his touch. He slipped his index finger in his mouth, then traced a tight circle around the nipple before he blew on it softly. I shivered at the coolness of his breath.

An obscene smile curved across his face as he pinched the firm flesh, a soft gasp rolling off my tongue. He knew what he was doing. He was toying with me. Soon, I would be begging for him to finish me. Only then would he strike the match, setting my blood on fire.

And, oh, how I craved those flames.

He cupped my breast in his hand, gentle at first. But as soon as he had my soft flesh in his hand, a shadow fell over his chiseled features. That dark longing that never faded, no matter how vicious we were to each other. His desire to claim me, and my need to be claimed, would probably never die.

At least, I hoped it wouldn’t.

He licked my nipple lightly at first, a ghost’s touch. Then, without warning, he took it into his mouth and sucked hard. I moaned as I felt a deep pull, like a thread of lust connecting my nipple to my center. Each time he sucked, my pussy clenched around nothing.

He put my nipple between his teeth and tugged gently before he pulled away. “What do you want me to do to you?”

My chest heaved as each breath came more shallow than the last. “Fuck me, Jack. Please.”

The begging was sincere, even if I was fully conscious of the fact that nothing got Jack harder than my desperate pleas for his cock.

He leaned in, his mouth hovering over mine as his hand slid between my legs. “How badly do you need me inside you?” he murmured against my lips as he traced his fingers along the crease where my thigh melted into my swollen lips.

My hips rose from the mattress, seeking his touch. “So bad,” I breathed. “So, so, so bad. Fuck me now.”

My body trembled as my anticipation multiplied. The throbbing between my legs swelled to a painful ache. At this rate, I would orgasm before he laid a finger on me.

He cupped my mound, the tips of his fingers pressing into the flesh around my opening, but not penetrating. “This.” He slid his middle finger inside me. “Is.” The heel of his palm ground against my clit. “My pixie.” He slid a second finger inside me. “My precious.”

I threw my head back with laughter, so I didn’t see it, I only felt it when Jack slid down and put his hot mouth on my center. I gasped as he ran his tongue along my slit and up to my swollen bud.

My body tensed as a horrifying thought crossed my mind. Would Jack be able to taste Isaac on me?

I grabbed tufts of his dark hair and yanked him up hastily. He laughed as he climbed up, but I quickly pulled his mouth to mine to silence him.

“Just fuck me, Jack. Fuck me now, and fuck me hard.”

His eyes searched mine, though I didn’t know what for. As I reached down to unfasten his jeans, a slow smile curled his lips, his blue eyes glittering with mischief.

He pulled my hands off his pants and pinned them to the mattress on either side of my head. “I will fuck you. And I will fuck you hard. But I will not fuck you now. I will fuck you when you’re good and ready.”

“Believe me, my body is ready,” I assured him.

He chuckled. “You know how much I love hearing you beg. But how about instead of telling me… show me.” He moved over so he was no longer on top of me. Now he was lying on his side, his head propped up on his hand. “Touch yourself.”

I breathed an internal sigh of relief as I slid my hand between my legs. I was not at all surprised to find that I was soaking wet, but I was surprised to find some slight irritation. Closing my eyes, I slid my finger out of my pussy and rolled it gently over my clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Jack leaned in and murmured in my ear.

I was so swollen and ready to be touched, I exploded within seconds. As he finished unfastening his jeans, he grabbed my hand and slid my fingers inside his mouth. He slurped up my arousal like a piece of juicy fruit. Then he kissed me. Hard.

I could taste myself on him, but I couldn’t taste anything else unfamiliar. Maybe I was blowing the whole thing with Isaac out of proportion. Maybe the moisture I’d felt between my legs as I leaned over the toilet was my own.

His tongue played with mine, our own private mating dance that no one else knew. I could hardly breathe as the longing to feel him moving inside me grew into a suffocating need. I needed him like I needed air.

Without warning, he got out of bed and began undressing. My heart raced as I watched him do this thing I’d seen him do a million times. It felt so brand new, yet still so mine.

I slipped my arms out of my robe and discarded it over the side of the bed. Jack sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard. I helped him slip a pillow behind his back.

“Come here,” he said, signaling for me to sit in his lap.

I stared at his erection for a moment, so smooth and thick and exactly the right length. Every nerve in my body sizzled with excitement. Pushing myself up on shaky limbs, I crawled on top of him. I straddled his thighs and his nostrils flared as I swayed my hips back and forth, leaving a trail of my scent over his skin.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me forward, until his cock was pressed against my abdomen. I grabbed the base and stroked the shaft, savoring the wild look in his eyes. I began to slide down to take him in my mouth, but he stopped me.

“Fuck that. I need to be inside you.”

Without warning, he picked me up and slid me onto his cock. A loud shriek pierced the air and echoed around us. Letting out a dry laugh, he pulled me toward him as I moved up and down. He laid slow, seductive kisses along the valley between my breasts, finding his way to my clavicle, tracing his tongue along the bone to my shoulder. All the while, I used the headboard to steady myself as I screwed him into oblivion.

My hips swayed, rolled, rocked, bobbed, they did everything and anything he wanted as he kissed my mouth, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. Every part of me rubbed raw by the rasp of his stubble. Every breath I inhaled filled with the warm, distinctly male scent of his skin.

My desire dripped from me, a silky mess that covered his cock. He reached between my legs and softly pinched my clit between two fingers. I gripped the top of the headboard and moaned as he stroked me up and down.

“Oh, fuck!” I breathed. “I’m gonna come.”

“Kiss me,” he hissed.

And I did. I kissed him deeply and madly. As our bodies trembled in the final throes of orgasm, I held his face and kissed him as if it were our last kiss.

When I pulled away, as his erection twitched inside me, I leaned my forehead against his as we both attempted to catch our breaths. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. He held me tightly. So tightly. The way I wanted to be held. The way I needed to be held. And as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck, I began to lose sight of where I began and he ended.

With tears streaming down my face, I made a silent wish that somehow I would make the Earth spin in the opposite direction. I would turn back the clock so I could hold Junior one more time, and stop myself from making so many stupid mistakes. I imagined myself being pressed into the earth by the force of gravity as the world spun out of control beneath me. Then, Jack showed up and everything stopped. Time stood still and I could breathe again as the Earth released its merciless grip. I didn’t know much, but I knew if I asked him to, Jack would change the laws of nature for me. I had to be willing to move heaven and Earth, and the truth, for him.

I had to wait. I had to talk to Drea and ask her, beg her to tell me what I should do. I had to talk to Isaac and explain that, as beautiful and kind as he was, and though the chemistry between us was very real, I could never love anyone but Jack.

But before I did any of that, I had to take my morning after pills. And in a few days, I would take a pregnancy test, just to eliminate any future surprises.

If I wasn’t pregnant, I would tell Drea everything and ask for her advice.

If I was pregnant, by some cruel and ironic twist of fate, I would have no choice but to tell Jack everything.

Until then, I would savor these moments with him. I would hold him every chance I got. I would tell him and show him how much I loved him. I would do everything I should have been doing for the last two years.

And maybe if I held on tight enough, maybe nothing would ever tear us apart again.

Once Jack and I had packed my things and he’d thrown everything into the back of my SUV, he decided to make a run to the drugstore to get me some Dramamine. He didn’t want to take any chances with my safety, and the Dramamine would quell my nausea long enough for me to drive the Tesla home. As soon as I saw his truck disappear around the corner, I scrambled to the mailbox at the curb and opened it up. It was empty.

There must have been a problem with the order. I ran inside and found my phone on the freshly cleaned kitchen counter. Opening my Postmates app, I saw a notification that the order had been canceled. I opened my text message app and, sure enough, I had multiple text messages from Postmates.

I stared slack-jawed at the messages as I realized I was officially fucked.

* * *