Maybe she shouldn’t have woken up this morning. She should have just stayed in bed after she dried the bathroom floor. Never in her life had she been so overcome with such hopelessness. The dam of emotions in her chest finally broke as she cried hard, completely ignoring her surroundings.
Someone gently shook her shoulder. “Arielle, what’s going on? Are you all right?” asked a familiar voice.
It wasn’t one of her neighbors or her landlord.
It was Trent.
Arielle was so happy to see him, she rattled off everything awful that had happened since she last saw him, which was actually barely an hour ago. Trent managed to hide his shock, and instead, hugged and comforted her. He told her everything would be okay.
After a while, another police officer came and took her statement. While she was giving him her information, Trent walked away for a minute and came back with a bottle of cold water. He also gave her some tissues to wipe her tears. Arielle drank the water as she pondered what she should do next. She came up blank, so instead, she asked Trent what he was doing in her neighborhood.
“You forgot your phone in the car, so I stopped by to your office and some guy in there told me your address since he couldn’t reach you,” said Trent.
“Who told you my address?
“Chris I think?”
Chris.
“I’m so sorry about… all of this. Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”
Arielle had an aunt in the Bronx who she rarely spoke with. Their interactions were limited to the exchange of Christmas cards when her mother was still alive. Plus, she was a cat lady and a hoarder, so her apartment wasn’t primed for guests. She had twelve cats and three dogs at last count and there was no room for Arielle to crash for the night.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll just stay at a motel tonight.” She ha
d enough left on her credit card for a two week stay before she would max it out. She could sleep in her office if she had to until she figured something out.
Trent looked concerned. “You don’t have any friends or family?”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“Nonsense. Why don’t you crash at my place, at least for tonight?”
She looked at him, hesitant to accept his offer. She didn’t know him that well. They’d just met that morning.
“Listen, I’ve been staying at my mom’s place temporarily since I came home from Iraq. I’ve just rented an apartment and will be moving in there at the end of this week. My mom’s apartment has four bedrooms and she’s rarely home. You could stay there for the night instead of going to a hotel. You’ve been through a lot today. Let me help you.”
“I… I don’t know.”
“It’ll be fine. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I think you’re staying in some shady motel. No funny business, I promise. You have my word.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I… um, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s not a big deal. Anybody would do the same if they were in my position.” He handed her the phone back.
She peeled herself from the sidewalk and Trent escorted her to where he parked the car.
“Is John home already?” she asked.
“No. He went back to the party because he had some stuff to do.”
Trent drove them his mother’s place. It turned out she lived in a swanky apartment building between Park Avenue and Lexington that Arielle had seen featured on a TV show about Manhattan real estate. She had guessed that Trent came from money, but she didn’t expect him to be this wealthy. She started feeling awkward, wondering if accepting his generosity was a good idea. The last thing she wanted to do was socialize with anyone like Sabrina. Sabrina never let her forget where she came from. Arielle was only a janitor’s daughter who Mr. Hoffman had allowed to rise above her station.
Arielle was still in awe of the building as Trent unlocked the front door of his mother’s apartment, which was on the top floor. The lights were off when they got inside, and it seemed to be empty.
Trends showed her directly to the guest room so she could get some sleep. He gave her a stack of towels, a bathrobe, and a pair of his mom’s fluffy slippers. “These are new,” he explained about the slippers. “She never wore them. I figured you’d like to take a hot bath and relax right now. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll make you some tea once you get out of the bath. Maybe you want some Tylenol P.M. too? It might help you sleep. Everything else can wait until the morning.”
She accepted the towels with gratitude. “Tylenol sounds good. I don’t know how to thank you, Trent.”