May runs to Elliott for help

May wiped at her face, her breath still shallow as she stumbled back onto the curb. Her hands trembled as she flagged down the very next cab. When it pulled up, she slid into the back seat, the door slamming shut behind her. It was only then that she realized they hadn’t paid their bill. She wouldn’t be going back to that restaurant, it seemed.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “The Broadview Gallery. You know it?”

He gave a nod and drove. May’s mind raced as the city passed by in a blur. What had she done? Amelia walking out on her felt like a final judgment. If her best friend could cut her off like that, what chance did she have of salvaging her marriage? She wasn’t sure why she was going to the gallery. Maybe she would think of some way to fix this. The ride felt like it took forever, but finally, the cab slowed. She handed the driver some cash and climbed out. The cool air of the afternoon didn’t clear her head.

Hurrying through the doors of the gallery, she headed for the stairwell at the back. She took the steps two at a time and almost tripped as she reached the top. Her eyes darted around, as if anyone who might recognize her might have followed her up. The gallery was mostly empty now. By the time she reached his door, May’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely think. She knocked. A few seconds later, the door opened. Elliott stood there. His dark hair was tousled and he had paint on his hands. He’d been working. His expression quickly changed to concern. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I—” She tried to speak. “I messed up. I told my friend. Everything.”

His brows furrowed. “Told her what?” he asked, cautious.

“That we—” Her voice wavered. She stepped past him into the studio. “That we slept together.”

His face tensed. He glanced toward the open door, then closed it behind them, turning to face her. “Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t mean to! I just—I couldn’t hold it in. I was panicking, and she kept pushing. It seemed like she’d be nice about it, but.” She broke off. “She wasn’t.”

Elliott rubbed a hand over his face. “Does she know your husband?”

She nodded. Her throat was tight. It felt like she might pass out. “Of course she does. She’s my best friend.”

He swore under his breath, pacing a few steps. “Okay, okay, calm down. Maybe she won’t say anything. Maybe she just needs time to cool off.”

“She was furious,” May said, her voice rising. “She said she couldn’t even look at me. What if she tells Roger? What if she tells everyone?”