Chapter 6: Descent

Going down those thirteen flights of stairs was like descending into hell, one step at a time. Each stair felt steeper than the last, each shadow longer, the hallway at the bottom a gaping, hungry mouth.

Dark thoughts crowded in. The black hole inside me whispered, "Why not just fall? Why not end it here, on these cold, dirty stairs?"

I closed my eyes and lifted my foot, teetering on the edge of the abyss. My mind was a blur of pain and emptiness. Maybe Marcus would find my body on his way home from the hospital, soup and roses scattered on the landing.

Then my phone chimed, the sound echoing in the stairwell like a bell. I froze. The moment passed. I opened my eyes and looked at the screen.

It was a message from Marcus: "Rachel, something urgent came up, I can’t make it back, sorry."

That was all. Just my name and an apology, flat and impersonal.

I kept walking, step by step, out into the night. I gave the cake, flowers, and chicken soup to a homeless man huddled under an overpass, then drove home alone.

Insomnia was normal by then. I sat up, staring at the ceiling, waiting for dawn. Marcus came home at 2 a.m., went straight to the bathroom. When he slipped into bed and wrapped his arms around me, he whispered, "I’m sorry," his breath warm against my ear.

Sorry for missing our anniversary? Sorry for running to Aubrey instead of me? Sorry for all the things he couldn’t say out loud?

I didn’t ask. As the sky paled outside, I finally said, "Marcus, can you not have Aubrey as your assistant? Can you let her leave the company?"

He paused, fingers frozen at his tie. After a long moment, he said, "Okay."

No explanation, just a quiet understanding between us. We both knew why.