“Didn’t say,” Liz replied. “Not a telemarketer, though.”
“’Kay, thanks.”
“Line one.”
I picked up the black handset. “This is Taylor. How can I helpyou?”
Silence.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Um, hi,” a female voice replied. “Is this Taylor Roberts?”
“It is. How can I help you?” I repeated.
“I’m not sure if you’ll remember me. My name is Leyla Miller. I’m Brett Thompson’s mom?” She said it fast, as though I should know who Brett Thompson was.
It only took a second for me to piece it together. My fight or flight responses fired up, making my heart race.
“Are you there?” Leyla asked.
“I’m here.” I stood up and leaned towards the open office door, swinging it closed.
“I know this is out of the blue, and I’m sorry for calling you at work, but this was the only number I could find on Google that had your name attached to it.”
“Mm.” I swallowed, sitting back down at my desk, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling.”
“Mm hmm.”
“Matt’s sick.”
“What?”
“He’s sick, Taylor. He had a stroke.”
Oh my God,I thought. But no words came.
“I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me,” Leyla continued. “Do you still love him?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“No judgment. I just need to know.”
“I’m sorry. Is Matt okay? You call me out of the blue at my office and—”
“He’s not okay. And if you still love him,then I need your help.”
~
An hour later, I found myself at a Starbucks just half a mile south of St. Ignatius Hospital on Long Island. My peach tranquility tea was held by two cups and still felt too hot to hold onto, so I opened the lid and breathed in the steam, trying to calm myself down when Leyla walked in. Even without makeup, even with puffy eyes that looked as if they hadn’t seen sleep in a week, she was still one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. I raised a hand, less in greeting and more out of habit, and Leyla rushed over, pulled out the chair opposite me, and sat.
No pleasantries were exchanged. “I'm glad you came,” she began.
I nodded.
Leyla let out a long exhale. “The thing is, I’m leaving him.”
