Upon hanging up, Mandy stood frozen to her spot, in utter and complete disbelief. She couldn't believe how quick it had been to get Harrison freaking Michaelson to agree to sign the divorce papers. If getting rid of the penthouse was all he demanded, she could keep the damned place.
No matter the memories that would definitely be a haunting party with her there, she could see herself agreeing to his terms. She didn't even care to know the reason behind them. All she cared about at this point was that she was going to be free of this loveless marriage in which she had fallen head first.
Nevertheless, the way he had seemed to agree without giving it much thought didn't sit well with her. Deep in her heart, it was hard to come to terms with his indifference. He didn't even care enough to ask her why she had filed for a divorce.
Mandy didn't wish for a litigated divorce, where she would be dragged to court on god only knows how many times, and where the end result might not be in her favor.
She was an attorney herself. And although she hadn't had the chance to pursue a career, thanks to Harrison's control freak tendencies, she knew enough to know that she would be better getting a collaborative divorce – where she and Harrison could get to a settlement that would please them both.
But what was there to settle really when she hadn't asked for anything? She just wanted an out of the marriage that was starting to suffocate her whole. He was the one bent on giving her the penthouse for whatever reason he deemed fitting.
"You seem to be lost in thoughts?" Her best friend's voice reached her from the threshold of the room.
Mandy just smiled at Samantha, "You're back early?"
She was deflecting and they both knew it. But Mandy couldn't bring herself to admit out loud how much she was hurting, how much Harrison's indifference made her vulnerable.
"I wasn't feeling well," Samantha shrugged. "My boss is the kind and understanding type."
"Oh, are you okay?" Mandy asked in a soft concern-filled tone.
"Peachy," her best friend told her.
And right as she stated her claim, she paled slightly, held a hand above her mouth, and went running out of the room.
She went after the sweet Samantha but this latter had closed the bathroom door behind her.
A few minutes later, she emerged from there, saying, "I don't know what I have eaten to upset my stomach, but it feels like I am going to need more than today to rest."
Mandy frowned slightly. She knew Samantha. Her friend wasn't the kind to get an upset stomach frequently.
And yet the very same thing had happened the other day after they had eaten sushi.
"This may be none of my business, sweetie," she began hesitantly. Samantha could be a very private person and she didn't want to pry. Nevertheless, she went on. "But could you be pregnant?"
Her friend's eyes widened at once.
She fished out her phone, checking the date, only to say afterwards on a sigh, "My period is three weeks late."
Mandy let out an almost imperceptible "Uh-oh" at that.
Samantha, contrarily to her, had never once entertained the idea of raising a child. She already could see the woman going into full panic mode.
"Breathe in, sweetie," she told her soothingly. "And then out. In and out."
Samantha obliged her, but almost as soon as she did, she held a hand to her mouth again and ran to the bathroom for the second time in her presence – but probably not for the second time that afternoon.
Mandy grabbed her jacket, and it wasn't long before she exited the apartment in haste, but not before yelling at her friend that she was going to bring her a pregnancy test – or two.
She wondered how her best friend would take it if she was indeed pregnant. She also couldn't help but wish she wasn't.
Sure, pregnancy could be a beautiful thing – a wish even for some – but she knew Samantha wasn't ready to be a mother.
The woman wasn't one to fool around much so she probably knew the father. But seeing as she had never once breathed a word of a possible significant other, it was safe to assume that he wouldn't want to get involved in a process as tedious as raising a child could be.
For all her sweetness and delicate nature, Samantha had the knack to fall for jerks.
Was it yet another jerk whom she had allowed in her bed?
The thought alone was daunting.
Mandy knew that the responsibilities that came with raising a child could be discouraging… And yet, she found herself wishing to see her best friend's child, expecting herself to be part of the journey, hoping to dote on the baby when it graced the world.
She arrived at the convenience shop and was glad to see that the shop was almost desert. Sure, she had nothing to hide or to be ashamed for. But this was a private matter still.
She grabbed what she came for – namely, a few pregnancy tests – and then was on her way out of there when she bumped into a hard chest.
"Sorry," she was quick to apologize.
When her gaze shifted to the man's face, her lips thinned out and her gaze hardened.
"Harrison," she let out on a sigh.
He looked at her with an unreadable expression and greeted her with a nod.
Just how nonchalant could he be?
She glared at him, and was about to leave him to wander the streets aimlessly, like a crazed man who didn't know his purpose, when he grabbed her wrist.
She stopped in her tracks. Her heart started thudding in her chest. Her face grew hot. And her own body betrayed her in ways it shouldn't.
"I remember a time when you claimed to love me," he stated almost haughtily. "Why does it seem like you cannot even stand the sight of me now?"
She freed her hand of his hold and answered in a shaky voice, without daring to turn around, "Love is a fickle emotion. It comes and goes."
Remain vague, she told herself. Don't turn around. Don't you dare turn around and look at his eyes or you'll be done for.
"Is it now?" He scoffed in what sounded like disbelief.
She heaved a sigh and then told him wearily, "My friend is waiting for me. I need to get going."
"Sam?" He probed in an angry tone.
"The one," she told him in a clipped tone.
She soon heard his footsteps resume.
Oh, how she hated herself for speaking to him at all. She shouldn't have. She should have just left him there, staring at her retreating back.