Read Part 7.7 here Read Part 7.8 here
That was when the thought had popped in her head to stay with Max and try to mend things with him. Max who, until he found out about her deception, had never given her cause to doubt him. Max who according to Mabel, still loved her. Max who just seconds ago had made it clear he wanted no more to do with her. There had been deceptions and betrayals between them but with both of them being willing, they could work through it all and perhaps come out stronger. All of that had hinged of course on if he would be willing to stay with her despite what was about to be a very public, nasty career destroying and quite possibly dangerous legal battle. She was not some sort of prize he would win for sticking with her. It would be incredibly presumptuous and manipulative of her to act like that. If he wanted to stay by her side through the trial, better it be from his own goodwill. She certainly did not hold it against him that he chose to walk away.
Yet a small part of her had hoped.A familiar helplessness crept over Iya. A helplessness borne of having survived a traumatizing experience but being unable to fully process, heal and move on from it. It was, she thought, like being paralyzed from the heck down but being fully conscious of the fact that you had legs and arms that used to move. The helplessness was accompanied by loneliness.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Max repeated.
“It’s fine… I understand.” Her voice, previously strong was now raspy and weak. She picked up the envelope from where it lay on the bed between them, still untouched.
“I’ll catch a cab back into the city. You should hear from whatever lawyer Lorie can find for me tomorrow.”
He made no response.
Even though there were no cabs in the quiet residential Glenview neighborhood their house was located in, Iya grabbed her bag and walked out. It wasn’t until she was a block away from her home that she realized the streets were empty of anything but private cars. Dusk was falling and the streetlights were just starting to come on. A few people walked their dogs and up ahead she could see a lone jogger. She pulled out her phone and pulled up the number for the cab service she patronized through Morrison and Roth. She could not use her company credit card but they certainly would send someone over to pick her up. The automatic response system informed her that all operators were busy but someone would be with her shortly. She listened absentmindedly to the saxophone music they played as she walked down the street. She knew there was a Starbucks at the intersection down the street . She could wait there for them. Probably start looking up divorce lawyers too. She looked up and down the road to make sure she could quickly cross to the side the coffee shop was on. The road was empty except for a beat up Honda Civic, making its way slowly towards the intersection. If she walked fast, she could cross the road before it got close. A cheery female voice thanked her for calling Chicago Premier Chauffeur services and asked for her phone number as she stepped off the side walk into the street, increasing her speed. She started to give the woman her information but was distracted by the sound of an engine revving and tires screeching. She turned just in time to see the once slow moving car bearing down on her, accelerating as it closed the short distance between them.
Why can’t I see the driver?
This was the last thought she had before the car hit her full force, sending her sailing in the air to land twenty feet away, her skull hitting the pavement with a sickening cracking thud.
Even as people began running towards her prone form, the car stopped and the driver jumped out long enough to grab her purse and document satchel which lay in the street and then speed away.
Read part 8.0 (Final Installation) here