“So, how long are we going to be in Paris for?” Rachel aske, practically bouncing in her seat.
“A week at most,” I replied. “Anything more than that, and I’ll be paying out of my pocket.”
We were sitting in a secluded booth at an Italian restaurant having the most amazing pasta I’d tasted in years. The bottle of champagne we’d opened to celebrate my promotion was almost entirely empty now, and I was already thinking about ordering another one. Joanna wasn’t coming to the office tomorrow, so I also wasn’t obligated to come in. I could just kick up my feet on the couch and watch reruns of The Office all day long.
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Rachel said, “but I plan on staying an extra week. There’s no way I’m going to Paris and leaving in just one week. It’s not enough.”
“I’m definitely not going to wait for you,” I said. “Unlike you, I don’t have flexible working hours.”
“You know you could afford to retire carly, right?” she said, twirling her pasta around her fork. “I mean I’ve never seen someone with a million dollars just sitting in their account. You could invest all that money in something and just sit back and make passive income.”
1 stiffened at the mention of the money, and a cold sense of dread settled over me as I remembered where it had come from. The fact still remained that it was Marcus’s money, and I just couldn’t bring myself to touch it. In a way, I would feel like he was still controlling my life. And would die before I let that happen again.
“You don’t understand,” I said quietly, rolling my fingers on the stem of my glass.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” she said. “You don’t want to touch in because it came from Marcus, right? You think the money is tainted in a way because it came from him?”
“I just can’t touch it,” I said, choking back my tears. “You don’t know what it was like to go through all that. I know I should just close my eyes and forget about everything, but it’s not something that can happen so easily. I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I will rather work and earn my own money.
“Liv,” she said, placing her hand over mine, “you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I understand. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
“You know what?” she said. “Let’s get out of here. It’s way too quiet here.”
I groaned as I realised what she meant, but I didn’t protest. And sure enough, less than an hour later, we were siting in the middle of a noisy club, with the music so loud that it reverberated through my skull. Rachel was dancing with some girls she just ran into, and I marvelled at how easy it was for her to
