22
EMMA
“Who is he, Emma?” Valerie asked me as I dropped my cell on the bed and cried for the umpteenth time in the last six hours.
“I can’t tell you,” I whimpered.
“You can and you will.” She pulled me up off the bed to make me look at her. “I know that I don’t know this guy, but he sounded older to me. He’s an older man, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” She could know that much.
“Okay,” she let me go, and I fell right back on the bed like a limp noodle. “Since he’s older, you guys might not have as big a problem as you think you do.” She picked me back up. “Unless this guy is married. Is he married, Emma?”
“No!” I said, a little outraged that she’d think I’d have an affair with a married man. I fell back on the bed again as she let me go.
“You need to stop that crying and start talki
