Kill Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

like I was being called to the Principal’s office. Maybe dinner hadn’t gone as well as I thought.
    I accepted the invitation and followed Joni to the bar. The others paid us no mind, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad and I was working myself up for nothing. Joni seated herself and ordered a Jack and Coke. I did the whole I’ll-have-what-she’s-having bit as I climbed onto my stool.
    “That was impressive, Claire.” Joni started, “I can tell you’ve done your research and I like that.”
    I sensed a “but” coming, so I spoke up quickly to cut it off.
    “Actually Joni, I did do my research… but I had no idea about your new line. I dropped my original ideas the minute the new campaign formed in my head.” I was trying the honesty approach and I prayed that it didn’t backfire on me.
    “In that case,” Joni started, “I’m even more impressed. Consider yourself part of our team now, and we’ll save the other ideas you scrapped for another time.”
    “Sounds like a plan. Salud!” I said, raising my glass to her already uplifted one.
    My euphoria lasted only a few minutes before I noticed a new text message from Pete on my phone. As I read the cryptic words “We need to talk” my bubble burst straight away.
    Those words fell into a group of phrases that no woman ever wants to hear. “We need to talk” is akin to “It’s not you, it’s me,” and “I need to tell you something.” No good conversation ever started with any of those words.
    Joni joined us at the bar, so I took another long swig of my drink and readied myself to wrap things up so that I could call Pete—which didn’t happen as soon as it needed to. For the next forty-five minutes, I sat on my left hand to prevent myself from fidgeting. My right hand helped me down another drink.
    After they finally left, I read back through four text messages. The first message was the “Need to talk” one, followed by “Did you get my message?” and then “Don’t ignore me, I’m serious.” The last message had come in five minutes ago and made my stomach drop.
    It said, “I’m done.”

Chapter 5
    What the hell was that supposed to mean? It was just like Pete to assume I was ignoring him, just because I hadn’t jumped at his first text message.
    Compassion for my husband wisped awake like smoke. Before he became unemployed, we were a typical family that enjoyed spending time together. We liked each other and things had been easy. Then Pete had been laid off.
    At first, I’d felt bad for him. It really was unfair and I knew that he must be depressed. But I figured he’d come out of it eventually.
    Then, despite the fact that he was home all day every day, Pete quit helping out around the house. Even the things he did before, like taking out the trash, he stopped doing.
    He no longer searched for work. He looked down on me for being busy with my own job, yet he constantly held out his hand for slices of my paycheck. It made no sense to my logical brain. How does someone have more free time, but contribute less to the household and then hate me for taking up the slack?
    Taking the supportive route hadn’t done any good, so I tried the tough-love track. Only that just made things worse to the point that I was just waiting for the moment that my marriage crashed and burned. It seemed that moment was now.
    But quitting via text? I didn’t see that one coming at all. I didn’t think he’d be so callous as to do it over the phone while I was miles away from home. Add that to the list of things I hate about my husband— he’s a coward.
    Since I’d worked myself up from being wounded to being outraged by his behavior, I figured it was a good time to call him back. Hell hath no fury and all that.
    Of course Pete didn’t answer his phone. That would have taken stones that my husband no longer had.
    I walked back to my hotel through the sticky night air. Normally the blanket of stars overhead, broken only by the occasional palm tree, would