Read Online December Rain by A. L. Goulden - Free Book Online

no! He probably wouldn’t answer my calls anyway... the way I ran from him... twice.” Monica’s voice cracks as every muscle in her face starts hurting.
    “I doubt that, but that’s what I’d do.”
    “I can’t handle him like this.”
    “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”
    “I appreciate everything. I couldn’t do this without you.”
    “Yes you could. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’ll check on you tomorrow okay. You got a lot to do at work?”
    “Not really. I’ve got one more episode before we break for the holidays. Same old same old.”
    “Good. Routine is good. So is sleep, that’s why I have to go try to pack some cream on these bags and get some Z’s.” She pinches her own cheeks before blowing a kiss.
    Monica hears the big metal door click and she follows to latch the deadbolt. She turns towards the huge windows of darkness, feeling exposed and strange. At least there are no windows in the bathroom, just a round skylight unlike anything she’s seen before. She imagines it’s the equivalent of staring up from inside a fishbowl, a really weird fishbowl.
     

 
     
     
     
    December 17th - Saturday
     
     
    The pounding at the door is an unwelcome startle that throws Monica nearly off the sofa. She scrambles for her phone to check the time, 8:17 a.m. The music blasting from next door didn’t taper off until after four dropping Monica into a deep coma for the last four hours. Why would anyone be here? She gets up and stumbles to the peep hole just as the pounding resumes.
    “Monica get your ass up and answer this…”
    She jerks it open. “What? Why are you here this early?”
    “Oh. Good fucking morning to you too. I see you’re as charming as ever.” Robin pushes her way inside and assesses the apartment. Most of Monica’s things are still in boxes and it is obvious that she’s spent most of her time on the sofa for the last two weeks.
    “I don’t like drop-ins. You know that.”
    “First… I am not a drop-in. And second...” She snatches the empty bag of corn puffs and crinkles it into a ball. “You can’t keep this up. Shutting yourself in here, wallowing. I’ve been trying to call you for days and I know you were here yesterday when I was downstairs with the crazy doorman. You have friends who care about you, ya know?”
    “Why is that plural? Only you know what’s going on.”
    “Well…not anymore.” Robin looks a little afraid as she continues cleaning towards the kitchen.
    “What did you do?”
    “I didn’t really do anything. It just kinda happened.”
    Monica is still as she goes through possible scenarios in her head. “You told Tristan?” The daggers aimed at Robin are sharp. Robin’s eyes drop as she adds another glass to the pile of dishes in her hands. “You told Tristan about the divorce? You didn’t tell her I had an affair right? Please tell me you didn’t tell her my shit!”
    “She had suspicions anyway and started asking questions, tons of fuckin’ questions-”
    “Since when can you not flip the script? You don’t even like Tristan anymore, why would you talk to her?”
    “That’s not true.” Robin points her finger like it’s a sword. “There wasn’t any way to avoid it. Bitch kept calling me over and over. She’s relentless, you know that.”
    “Oh Please! You said yourself that she’s had an attitude since she got married. Tristan’s the last person I’d ever talk to about this. She’s so judgmental. I don’t need it right now!”
    “Well, too bad. We’re going up there so pack a bag.”
    Monica’s hip shifts with the tilt of the head. “You’re not serious.”
    Robin’s lack of smirk is a clear answer. “We’re going out with the girls like we used to. We’re gonna relax and bond damn it.”
    “No.”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m not going up there to discuss my problems.”
    “We don’t have to talk about anything… she promised she wouldn’t bring it up unless you did, and you know Ri