When the doors opened, she closed her fingers around the ring, willed the tears to wait.
"Pilar." Helen took one look. Her lips tightened. "Okay, let's forget the coffee section of today's entertainment."
At home, she crossed to a painted cabinet, opened it and selected a decanter of brandy.
She poured two snifters, then walked over to sit on the footstool in front of Pilar's chair.
The Villa
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By Cynthia Magana cynthmag - https://unsplash.com/photos/GMLNhaBkCiEarchive copyImage, CC0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61715079
And if you're watching a loved one cycle through the typical
emotions associated with this trying chapter—grief, fear, anger, and
frustration—not to mention lengthy legal proceedings, it's easy to feel
helpless or concerned that you'll say the wrong thing.
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"Maybe, maybe. I can't see clearly now. I can't see through the next hour much less the next year. God, I didn't even make him pay. Didn't have the guts to make him pay."
"Don't worry, she will." Helen leaned over, kissed the top of Pilar's head. No man like Tony should slip through life without paying, she thought.
"And if you want to scald him a bit, I'll help you outline a divorce settlement that will leave him with permanent scars and one shriveled testicle."
Pilar smiled a little. She could always count on Helen.
"As entertaining as that might be, it'd just drag things out, and make it more difficult for Sophie. Helen, what the hell am I going to do with the new life that's been dumped in my lap?"
"We'll think of something."
The Villa