Four Minute Phone Call Exposed My Husband and My Best Friend
“Laura,” she said, her voice trailing off at the end. “Please. Just five minutes.”
I did not get out of the car immediately. I sat in the driver’s seat, watching her through the windshield.
When I finally stepped onto the concrete, the cold air hit my face. I did not walk toward her; I stood by the driver’s side door, holding my keys.
“Richard left,” Monica said, taking a step closer. “He took the money from our joint savings and went to Portland. I cannot pay the rent on the apartment.”
“That is between you and Richard,” I said.
“He blocked my number,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “The landlord gave me a three-day notice. I have nowhere to put the baby’s things.”
She reached out as if to touch my arm, but I stepped back, placing the car between us.
“I cannot help you pay for his choices anymore, Monica,” I said.
“He is your husband,” she whispered. “We were your family.”
“You were my friend,” I said.
