Page 55 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
Their heels clicked against the pavement as they circled me—three distinct rhythms, uneven but coordinated, like predators testing distance before closing in.
Their strong scents pressed into my awareness.
Expensive floral perfumes led the way.
But beneath them, threaded through the sweetness, was something else—jealousy.
“Why the fuck isn’t this bitch reacting?” the one gripping my hair demanded, frustration sharpening every word.
Because I learned a long time ago that reacting only makes it worse.
But I didn’t say that.
Didn’t give them anything.
“Girls...”
My former supervisor called to the women again, his tone careful—almost wary—as though he was afraid someone from the company building might catch them bullying me.
“How about this...” he continued, lowering his voice into something conspiratorial, as if he were offering a clever solution rather than something far worse. “Her apartment is only three buildings away.”
My heart gave a single, hard thud.
“We can pay her a little visit tonight,” he went on. “Break what’s left of her so she never shows up at this company again.”
Something inside me flared at those words.
The women murmured in agreement—low, eager, ugly.
My grip tightened imperceptibly around my cane—not from fear, but calculation. Then a sudden, violent shove sent me forward, and I hit the pavement harder this time.
My palms scraped first—skin tearing against rough concrete. My knees followed, impact jolting up my spine as gravel bit through my tights.
A sharp burst of pain shot through me.
Somewhere near me, my phone began ringing—loud, insistent, vibrating against the pavement.
I ignored everything else and reached for it.
My fingers found it after a second, brushing against the familiar shape before curling around it.
I brought it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“I’m parked right in front of you, ma’am,” the Uber driver I’d booked earlier said.
His voice was steady.
As if nothing unusual had happened.
As if I hadn’t just been on the ground, surrounded, hit.
I hadn’t even heard the car arrive.
The attack had swallowed everything else—the sound, the space, the world beyond it.
“We’ll see you tonight, bitch.”
