Read Unravel for Free Online Page B

Jess quizzed, looking perplexed.
     
    “Packing,” I said as I threw clothes into my suitcase.
     
    Her voice got excited, “Are you going away on a secret rendezvous with him?”
     
    My green eyes shot her a glare of anger “No!” Within a split second my emotions changed, and I dropped my shoulders in sadness. “I just need to get away.”
     
    “Where are you going?”
     
    “I haven’t decided. Um… Paris? How does that sound?”
     
    “Do you want me to come with?” she asked, concerned.
     
    “No sweetie,” I whispered. “I just need to be by myself and think.”
     
    “How long do you reckon you’ll be gone?”
     
    “I don’t know—just a few days probably. I will have run out of money by then anyway.”
     
    Jess nodded.
     
    “I’ll stay at a cheap backpackers—I promise, I’ll call you when I arrive, so you know I’m ok.”
     
    Jess walked over to me cautiously, treating me as if I were a wildebeest she didn’t want to startle, for fear I may charge. She watched me frantically chucking clothes into the suitcase, which must have appeared as a blur in front of her eyes. “Do you love him?” she whispered.
     
    My voice splintered into shards of sadness. “Please, Jess, don’t. Can you give me a lift to the train station?”
     
    She put her arms around me and squeezed tightly. “I can do anything you need me to do. You know I’m always here for you—no matter who you’re with.”
     
    She grabbed her car keys off the bench and smiled at me lovingly, rubbing me on the back. “Let’s go, missy.”
     
    I smiled with relief. “Thanks, Jess—I really appreciate it.”

9
     
    I wish this were a movie, I thought as the countryside chugged on by. This trip is taking forever . I hadn’t bothered to find out how long it was going to take, and seven hours later, I was getting bored, for lack of a better word. Bored of my mind whirring round and round, resembling a stuck record with each sad song featuring Daniel. Bored of the granny sitting across from me, determined to show every photo of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren taken from day one.
     
    Bored of it all.
     
    If this were a movie, taking the train to Paris would have gotten me there in thirty minutes, and I would have been locked away in a private cabin, making love to my husband who had just returned from war. Instead I was stuck with who-knows-whose granny as she waffled on.
     
    Around twenty minutes later (and I hate to think how many more baby photos), with relief I waved goodbye to the old dear as I pulled my suitcase onto the platform at Paris Gare de Lyon. Although the station was a smudge of people and energy, I felt complete serenity being away from everything that was familiar—my thoughts, Josh, my crabby boss, and more than anything, away from him. I wandered up to an information desk. “I’m looking for somewhere really cheap to stay. Do you know somewhere close?”
     
    The lady smiled at me. “Yes! Give Hotel Tolbiac a try; it’s only a short walk away.”
     
    I looked at her, confused “Oh, I don’t need to stay at a hotel. Do you know of anything cheaper? Anything with the word ‘hotel’ in front of it sounds expensive.”
     
    She laughed warmly, “The hotel is only one star, so you needn’t worry about it being expensive—but it is cheerful.” And she went onto explain exactly where I could find it.
     
    Sure is ‘cheerful’ I thought as I walked in the door. Who decorated this place? The rainbow fairies? Every wall, door—surface—was painted a different bright color. I would have called it more alarming than cheerful. I booked a single room, which, the guy proudly reported, came complete with a bed, desk, chair, and sink. The shared bathroom was apparently down the hall. The French man with the usual nasal accent then informed me with a smug smile, “Your room is on the fourth floor.”
     
    “Can you tell me where the lift is, please?” I innocently asked.
     
    He rubbed his