A seat at the table

"You sure you're able to walk from here?" I flashed a fake smile before I come out the SUV my heels stepping onto the asphalt with a sharp clack, "it's fine, Im already home" I say making sure my pearly whites are very visible, before he could say anything else Im out the door and I wave him good bye, walking away as fast as possible, I hear the car drive away and the whole rage in my body just seem to come alive, I wasted my whole day with this douchebag, i walk with a speed that definitely lacked poise, I feel so irritated, I feel like I smell of whisky, cheap cologne dipped in gravy of humiliation I need a shower and a complete memory wipe, I pull out my phone from my purse and immediately call true the number you're trying to call is not reachable at the moment ... I sigh, the gravel is so much at this side of the road I've never had to walk from here, my right heel somehow buried into a soft patch of dirt my ankle buckled and I watched in slow motion as my phone slipped from my hand face down landing with a crunch. I pull my hair back sighing I believe Im already tired tomorrow and in fact the whole of next week, this date is the most humiliating, most idiotic, Im so foolish I thought with my two hands on my head I pick my heels and threw it as far from me as possible down to GOd knows where ! I stare at my brightly lit house and it just made me more aware of things Number 1, it's f*****g freezing outside and everywhere else is pitch black and it looks like I live in a f*****g forest and my house is the main star of the show with a personal spotlight, I check my phone and my heart sinks, great! my screen is broken it's also glitching too, the screen is a spider web of cracks, it's glitching so hard I can't even see my wallpaper, like it can't get any worse. Fine, if I can't call True I'll text her, she needs to know about this disaster before I lose my mind. It seems like the phone glitch is getting worse, I squint my eye a little and I open our chat and typed : don't scream but I just threw my A.muaddi pumps into the woods and I think im about to file a police report against date night. I hit send, the phone glitched again, my thumbs flying over the cracked glass as the words poured out of me. I am actually going to kill you for setting this up that cool singer everyone loves? Total fraud he spent half the night indirectly asking me for money like Im his personal ATM and the other half bragging about his polo handicap and yatch parties while wearing those hideous boat shoes I know you remember me complaining about one time! He smelled like a garlic dipped in cheap gum, he tried to force feed me whiskey after I told him five times I don't drink, then had the nerve to force a kiss on me because he saw the paps. I had to play along so I don't look like a b***h on page six but I felt like I was kissing a tipsy entitled trash bag, Im home, Im barefoot and Im never leaving my house again. I hit send with a final aggressive tap, I stared at the glitchy screen waiting for the little bubble to pop up My heart stopped The first text, the one about the shoes had a blue check mark next to it but it wasn't under trues name it was under his. And the second one, the scathing essay long funeral for his reputation? The screen flickered a neon line cutting through the spider web of cracks. It hadn't gone to true and it hadn't gone to the singer, it was sent to a completely different thread a number I didn't recognize. I stared at the "Delivered" status until the screen flickered one last time, a jagged neon line cutting through the cracks, before the whole thing went black. It was dead. I didn't even have the energy to scream. I just stood there barefoot i sighed, feeling the cold of the marble floor seeping into my bones as I finally crossed the threshold into the foyer. "Maria?" I croaked. Maria appeared from the kitchen, her eyes widening as she took in my disheveled state—bare feet, wind-swept hair, and a shattered phone clutched in my hand like a piece of shrapnel. "Miss Leah! What happened?" "Disaster," I muttered, pressing the dead device into her hand. "The screen is gone. I need it fixed and back on my nightstand by tomorrow morning. Please. I don't care what it costs." "Of course. I'll have someone look at it immediately," she promised, already reaching for her own phone to call the concierge service or one of our private technicians. I didn't stay to hear the rest. I dragged myself up the stairs, each step feeling like a mile. I didn't turn on the lights in my room; the moonlight filtering through the curtains was enough. I reached back, blindly unzipping my dress and letting it pool into a heap of expensive fabric on the floor. I didn't wash off the gravy of humiliation. I didn't even brush my teeth. I just collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillows as the silence of the house finally swallowed me whole. I just hoped that wherever those texts landed, they stayed unread until I had the strength to deal with the fallout.