The sunglasses are all I've got, and not nearly enough, as the doors glide open and I'm standing face-to-face with Aidan. His eyes roll over me and he cocks his head. Great. I'm not really armed for an extra shaming. I try to brush past him with a polite grin, since he's the last person I want to see right now, but, of course, he wants to talk. "Nice shades," he says. "And a new outfit, isn't it?" "Is it?" I say absently, as if I have no idea that the other is upstairs in my hamper, too stained to wear out in public. "Your husband...he's an interesting character." Aidan smiles all good-natured-neighborishly. "Yes, he is." "Is he always like that to you? "Like what?" "An asshole." I decide then and there that Aidan needs to remember what we are to each other and that I'm not the helpless princess waiting for his white-knighted ass to save me. He might be right on target--Des is a total asshole--but the deposits he just made are still rolled in my pocket and still slick between my legs. He's still my husband. "We're neighbors, Aidan," I say with a wry smile. "How about we just keep it that way?" He nods with a little frown. "Alright." "Thanks," I say, whisking past him and out the lobby doors. I'm happy to be wearing the dark shades because, for some reason, my eyes are welling up with tears. <<<<>>>> I order the mirror and pick it up four excruciating days later. I haven't even bothered to leave my apartment, since I can't really see what I look like in the medicine cabinet. Down to the last of the Jim Beam, I was relieved when the store finally called to say the mirror was ready for pick up. I spend three hours getting myself ready and still step out of my apartment feeling like I'd rolled in mud.
