Chapter 9
As Teresa continued to sob, she became aware of someone's rapid approach. Lifting her tear-filled eyes, she managed a raspy, “Mirlam.”
Miriam quickly closed the distance, lowering herself to comfort Teresa with a hug. “What’s wrong?” she inquired, her voice laced with concern.
Teresa was a picture of misery, her face pressed against Miriam’s shoulder, her head shaking in a silent refusal to admit anything was wrong. But it was clear she was on the verge of tears, utterly drained.
Miriam ran her fingers through Teresa’s hair, her tone gentle and reassuring. “It’s cool, Teresa. If you wanna talk, I’m here. You can tell me anything, anytime.”
Miriam’s comforting presence was like a warm hug to Teresa, who’d always been able to rely on her childhood best friend. In Miriam’s VW CC, Miriam had a box of tissues at the ready, gently wiping Teresa’s tears and sniffles.
Deep in their chat, Teresa failed to notice the black Rolls Royce that quietly slipped away, its departure going unnoticed.
As they approached Teresa’s place, her curiosity overcame her. “How’d you find me?” she asked, her voice still quivering.
Miriam’s eyes sparkled as she recounted the message from Jonathan to keep quiet about him. “You weren’t answering my calls,” she mumbled, a tinge of anxiety in her voice. “I panicked and went looking for you.”
Teresa nestled closer to Miriam, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Thank you, Miriam,” she said, her tone affectionate.
Miriam seemed to have a response on the tip of her tongue, but instead, she just sighed, letting the moment slip away.
After they’d returned home and Michael was down for the night, they popped open a couple of beers. Teresa raised her bottle in a toast. “Here’s to us,” she said, tapping her bottle against Miriam’s.
Eyeing Teresa with a mix of worry and curiosity, Miriam asked, “What’s going on with you? You’re acting off. You’re usually the strong one.”
Teresa dodged the topic of her family, preferring not to expose her issues.
“I’ve been thinking, Miriam,” Teresa began, taking a gulp of her beer. “I’m done with just getting by. I want to start my own business. I’ve got responsibilities now, with my son and all.”
Miriam gave a dismissive wave, a hint of annoyance in her tone. “You should talk to Jonathan. He’s the father, and from what I hear he’s rolling in it.”
It seemed reasonable for Teresa to ask Jonathan for significant child support, possibly even reaching millions.
Teresa exhaled, her tone devoid of emotion. “Miriam, he’s engaged. Might as well be at the altar soon. I’m not about to interfere.”
Miriam’s eyes bulged. “Seriously? He never breathed a word about it.” Her disbelief was palpable.
Benny was tight with Jonathan, and Miriam thought it was strange that he’d never brought it up with them.
Teresa shrugged it off. “His choice of bride is his own deal. I’ve got my kid, and that’s what really matters.”
Miriam’s brow wrinkled, a clear indication that she wasn’t entirely convinced. As the night wore on, Teresa, after a few too many, gave in to the pull of sleep, conking out on the couch.
Seeing her friend out for the count, Miriam quietly got up, grabbed a blanket, and laid it over Teresa, tucking her in.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Miriam answered, and Jonathan’s voice came through. “Is she asleep?”
Miriam replied with a simple, “Yeah.”
Jonathan was the one who clued Miriam in on Teresa’s breakdown, prompting her to find and comfort Teresa in a moment of crisis. Without his call, Miriam would have been in the dark about Teresa’s distress.
Mariam casually brought up the topic, “Hey, I heard a rumor—you’re heading down the aisle again!”