From the hallway, footsteps. Her husband, MARK (40s, handsome in a tired way, briefcase still in hand), stops at the kitchen entrance. He doesn’t step inside.
“It’s always about her. Three months. Three months since you told me, and you’ve already moved her into a condo two blocks from our daughter’s school. You introduced Chloe to her last weekend, didn’t you?”
End of Part 1
“Don’t.”
Pauses. Deletes it. Types again: I can’t do this alone. MissaX 24 06 11 Rachael Cavalli Heartburn Pt 1
“Get out of my kitchen.”
The house is too quiet. Her wedding ring catches the light as she lifts the wooden spoon to taste. She winces—not from the heat, but from the familiar burn rising in her chest. Heartburn. Again. From the hallway, footsteps
She reaches for the antacids in the cupboard. Three tablets. Chews them slowly. The bottle is almost empty.
Finally, she types: The offer is ready. When can you come by? “It’s always about her