The Silk Chains Of Manhattan

Anna's Pov "Sign here." The lawyer pushed the papers across the table. I stared at the blank line where my signature was supposed to go. My hand shook when I picked up the pen. "Anna?" Jimmy said my name soft like he always did. I couldn't look at him. If I looked at him I would see his blue eyes and I would remember why I married him in the first place. I would remember the good parts and then I wouldn't be able to do this. "There's someone else," I said. The kitchen got really quiet. I could hear the clock on the wall ticking. I could hear Jimmy breathing. "Who?" he asked. "Does it matter?" "Yeah. It matters to me." I finally looked up. He wasn't crying but his eyes were red around the edges. His jaw was tight like he was trying really hard not to show me how much this hurt. "His name is Trevor," I said. "Trevor Green." "How long?" "Six months." Jimmy nodded slowly. He picked up the papers and looked at them for a long time. Then he signed his name and stood up. "I hope he makes you happy," he said. He walked to the door and stopped with his hand on the handle. "I hope he treats you better than I did." "Jimmy, you treated me fine." "Then why are you leaving?" I didn't have a good answer for that. The truth was Jimmy was boring. He worked at the same office every day. He came home at the same time every night. He kissed my forehead every morning before work. Everything about him was safe and predictable and I hated it. Trevor was different. Trevor was exciting. I met Trevor at a business conference in Manhattan. He was giving a speech about something I can't even remember because I was too busy staring at him. He had dark hair that fell over his forehead and brown eyes that looked right through you. His suit probably cost more than my rent. After his speech he walked straight to me. "You looked bored," he said. "I was." He smiled. "I'm Trevor Green." "Anna Shawn." "Let me buy you a drink Anna Shawn." That drink turned into dinner. Dinner turned into kissing in his car. Kissing turned into a hotel room, i told myself it was just one night but then he called the next day. "I can't stop thinking about you," he said. "I'm married." "I don't care. Do you?" I should have said yes. I should have hung up the phone and blocked his number and never talked to him again. But I didn't. "No," I said. "I don't care." The affair lasted six months. Six months of sneaking around and lying to Jimmy, feeling guilty but not guilty enough to stop. Trevor took me to fancy restaurants, he bought me expensive dresses. He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. "Leave him," Trevor said one night. We were in his penthouse apartment looking out at the city lights. "Leave your husband and move in with me." "I can't just leave." "Why not?" He turned me around to face him. "Are you happy with him?" "No." "Then leave. Be with me instead." He kissed my neck. "I can give you everything he can't." So I left. I packed my stuff while Jimmy was at work. I took my clothes, my books and my toothbrush. I left my wedding ring on the kitchen counter with a note that said I'm sorry. Trevor's penthouse was huge. Floor to ceiling windows. Marble counters. A bathroom bigger than my old bedroom. "Welcome home," Trevor said when I walked in. He had champagne ready. "To new beginnings." "To new beginnings," I repeated. We clinked glasses and I tried not to think about Jimmy coming home to an empty apartment. The first month was perfect. Trevor came home from work every day and pulled me into his arms. He told me I was beautiful. He told me he loved me. We went to parties where everyone knew his name. He introduced me as his girlfriend and I felt important. "You're mine now," he whispered in my ear one night. "I'm yours," I said back. The second month was still good. He bought me jewelry and took me shopping. He surprised me with a weekend trip to Paris. Everything felt like a dream. But then the third month started and things changed. Small things at first. He got annoyed when I wore certain dresses. He didn't like when I talked to other guys even if they were just waiters or store clerks. He checked my phone while I was in the shower. "Who's Marcus?" he asked one morning. He was holding my phone. "My cousin. Why?" "You didn't tell me you were texting him." "I text lots of people Trevor." His face got hard. "I don't like you talking to other men." "He's my family." "I'm your family now." He put my phone down really hard on the counter. "Remember that." I laughed because I thought he was joking. Successful men were supposed to be a little jealous right? That just meant they cared. Things got worse after that. The yelling became normal. The grabbing became normal. One time he threw a glass and it shattered on the wall next to my head. "You made me do that," he said after. "If you would just listen this wouldn't happen." I started walking on eggshells. I tried to be perfect. I tried to do everything right. But it was never enough. Two years passed like that. Two years of trying to make him happy. Two years of failing. My friend Samantha noticed something was wrong. "Anna what's going on with you?" she asked at lunch one day. "You seem different." "I'm fine. Just tired." "You're not fine. You have bruises on your arm." I pulled my sleeve down faster. "I fell." "Anna." "I said I fell Samantha. Can we drop it?" She looked at me for a long time. "If you need help call me. Anytime. I mean it." "I will." But I never called. Because calling meant admitting I made a huge mistake leaving Jimmy. Calling meant admitting that the man who swept me off my feet was slowly destroying me. So I stayed quiet and survived. That's all I did anymore. Survive. Then one morning I woke up feeling sick. Really sick. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. The same thing happened the next day. And the next day. I bought a pregnancy test from the store and took it in the bathroom while Trevor was at work. Two red lines. I was pregnant.