a P

. My body moved, but my mind was stuck in

nto the small adjoining bathroom. I gripped the sides of the

It was a purge of grief, of anger, of a l

ace was ghostly pale, my eyes red-rimmed and hollow. A stranger st

n my cheeks. I let them fal

again. The woman in the mirror was still broken, b

away and let them destroy me.

t just about

by was innocent. This baby was the

I had to bring this child into the w

needed money. I

would endure the humiliation

out dignity. It was a

cold mask. I opened my laptop and began methodically archiving all the f

. I started drafting a new campaign strategy, one tailored to her.

ll came from a numbe

waiting once too often and had decided it was everyone else's fault. "This is Veron

hav

c photographer. A specific studio. A specific brand of mineral water in the dressing room.

te button, set the phone down, and breathed thro

ll have a revised brief t

not argued. I had not pushed back. Veronic

you do." She hung up

stant found me there a few minutes later, one hand braced on

and a packet of saltines on the coun

t's just a s

d better go s

The salt helped. The cold water helped. Nothing really helped, but I had lea

e, steady and quiet, until I straigh

rew, the caterers. I sent Kyla's contract to legal and followed up twice when they didn't respond. I drafted the campaign deck, page by page

laint. Without error. Withou

ped up on my screen, I stared at it for a long time. Kyla Landry Campaign Kickoff.

d his mistress, presenting a marketing