by Emma Easter
George turned his gaze fully to her, and the expression on his face still held shame and embarrassment. “I’m really sorry, Sofia. I could not do it. I cannot leave my wife.” He looked at his wife, and then squared his shoulders. The shame melted off his face, right before Sofia’s eyes. He gave her a hard stare and said, “My family and my job are the two most important things to me. I cannot afford to lose either.”
Sofia felt like he’d just stabbed her with a knife. “What are you saying, George?” she shrieked.
“I am saying that I cannot continue to see you… and I mean it this time.”
Sofia’s heart sank down to her feet, and she leaned against the couch so she would not sink down to the floor.
George said, “There’s more Sofia.” That look of shame appeared on his face again. “My wife wants me to fire you from your job and take this apartment back because” — he glanced at his wife again and looked at Sofia — “because this apartment building partly belongs to her father, and therefore to her.”
Sofia could not believe her ears. She felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare. “George, please tell me you’re joking,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “My wife said she would leave with our children, get her father to fire me, and make sure that I never work in this city again. I have no choice.”
She yelled, “Yes, you do, George! You have a choice! We can still be together even if we have nothing. We can go through anything as long as we are together.”
He glanced at his wife, who was still sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed and watching them with a curious expression on her face. “It’s so easy for you to say, Sofia.” He turned back to her. “You have nothing to lose, but I have everything. My children, the job I have worked so hard for, everything.” Once again, he looked at his wife before facing her. “I’m sorry. I truly am.” He looked weary as he gazed at her, and then he turned away and went to stand next to his wife.
Elena looked up at Sofia and shook her head. “You should have left George alone the first time I found out you two were having an affair. But you chose not to. At that time, I didn’t even know he got this apartment for you. An apartment built with my father’s money, and that he had been paying the rent — with money he earned in my father’s company. And to cap it all, he got a job for you in one of my father’s companies.” She chuckled as though she had said the funniest thing ever. “Now, you’re going to lose it all.” She stood up, took George’s hand and walked to Sofia. “George told me the rent will expire in a couple of days. I have spoken to my father already. You have two days to get your things out of this apartment. I need it for something else.”
Sofia stared at her in disbelief. She looked at George and faced Elena again. “You cannot take my apartment!” she yelled.
“It’s not your apartment, and it has already been taken from you,” Elena said coolly. “You know what will happen if you’re not out by the time I come back here. You don’t want to fight me for this apartment, I promise you. So move your things out by the time I come back.” She looked around the apartment again. “What am I saying? All the furniture was bought by my husband, wasn’t it? Nothing in this apartment really belongs to you. So you will move out with nothing but your trashy clothes.”
“Elena!” George pleaded. “Please, give Sofia a bit more time. It’s not her fault that…”
“Hush, George!” his wife said. “Don't say anything right now.” She turned to Sofia again. “I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m the meanest and most vindictive person you have ever met. But have you ever thought about how wicked you’ve been through all of this? You try to take a woman’s husband away from her. To take him away from his children and...”
“That’s a lie!” Sofia cut in. “I have never tried to take him away from his children. There’s no way I would ever ask George not to be a part of his children’s lives. It’s just you who...”
“Shut up! Do you think that breaking up a marriage so the kids don’t have both their parents in the same home is not the same thing? If he ever files for a divorce, I will make sure I fight for sole custody. He will not be able to see them half as much as he does now. So tell me, is that being in his children’s lives? Do you even have a conscience?”
“Elena, please!” George said
George’s wife glowered at Sofia. “Be out of here in two days, or...” She left her sentence unfinished, but Sofia already knew what Elena had left unsaid. She knew what to expect if she was not out of this apartment in two days.
She could not breathe or think properly as Elena linked her arms with George’s. She shot Sofia one more angry look and then turned around and began to march to the door with him. George turned around to look at Sofia and mouthed, “I am sorry. Forgive me.” He turned around again.
Sofia wanted to scream at him; to scratch out his wife’s eyes; to slap George and tell him to snap out of it and free himself of his wife’s clutches, or whatever spell she had cast over him. But she knew it would do no good, and his wife had cast no spell over him. He was a coward, and she had been stupid to believe he loved her more than his high-paying job; more than the jealous woman who stood at her door with him now. He did not love her at all. He loved his money and reputation more than he did her. He was unwilling to fight for her. She was nothing more to him than a plaything to be used and dumped. A small-town girl who had come to the city empty-handed and was now living off his goodwill. She’d given him her body in exchange for material things. Shame washed over her. She’d been such a fool.
The door banged shut as George and his wife walked out of the apartment, and Sofia sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She wept bitterly and then rose to her feet. She had loved George so much, and yet she was now finding out that he had not loved her at all. He had only used her.
But did you not also use him?
She sighed. Maybe a year or so after they’d met, she had used him to get her bills paid. But later on she had grown to love him. Apparently the feeling was not mutual.
She began to rail against George and against his wife. Finally, when she was spent, she sat on the sofa and began to cry again. Her life was over. She was going to lose everything that was dear to her — George, her job, this apartment — everything. Where would she go when she moved out of the apartment?
For a brief moment, she thought about her hometown, the tiny town she had left as a teenager. No one cared about her there. The man who was her father by birth probably still lived there, but he had never really cared about her. She had lost her mom when she was only eight. Being an only child, her father had apparently thought that he had no more responsibilities when her mom died and that she could take care of herself even though she was just a kid. She’d left that small town as quickly as she could, and she would never go back there again. But even here, where she knew a bunch of people, she really had no one she could confide in; no one who she could trust to help her.
She cried harder. She felt like her heart had broken in two. Even though she had railed against George and cursed him just moments ago, she missed him terribly. The thought of never seeing him again caused her heart to physically ache.
She should have listened to Lily and to the voice of reason inside her head warning her not to get close to George; to let him go because he did not belong to her. But she had gone on believing that one day he would truly belong to her; that he would leave his wife for her. She should have seen this coming, but she’d chosen not to.
She dashed angrily at the tears streaming down her face and picked up her phone from the sofa. She felt numb with sorrow. What was the point of living when she had lost everything? Overwhelming despair took hold of her, threatening to suffocate her. She shut her eyes. She would give anything to escape the way she felt now. An idea came into her heart — a way to end her sorrow — and she gave in to it. She’d found a way to escape it all.
She began to stand but sat down again, trying to hold o
n to the sliver of hope in her. She had to talk to someone first, someone who truly cared about her. She had to talk to Lily. But she had not been able to get through to her for almost a month now. Lily had told her that she and her new husband were going on a trip around the world for their honeymoon. Who knew where they both were now?
She dialed Lily’s number, hoping against hope that Lily would answer the phone, but once again there was no dial tone. She threw her phone across the room, slid from the sofa to the floor, and cried until she could cry no more. She ran her fingers through her hair and bit her lips. What am I doing sitting down here?
The bathroom, specifically the top shelf where she kept her medicine, called to her. She stood up stiffly and left the living room. Slowly, she walked to the bathroom, opened the top cabinet, put her hand behind the rows of medicine bottles and brought out a bottle of pain meds. A few times, on days she’d been depressed, she’d considered swallowing some of the pills and ending it all, but she’d pulled herself back. But today, she was going to. She had never felt this hopeless in all her life. She would take as much as possible and end the pain she felt forever. She had nothing to live for anymore.
She poured the whole bottle into her hand and swallowed everything. She soon began to feel drowsy and sat down on the bathroom floor. She lay on the cold tiles as her head and ears began to ring, and then she felt herself gradually begin to fade away.
For a brief moment she thought about George, and then about Lily. Sadness flooded her heart. Lily would be sad when she found out she’d passed away, but she wasn’t sure how George would feel. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision began to blur. And then darkness swallowed her.
Chapter 3
Jude lifted another bottle of beer to his mouth and downed it all. He dropped the empty bottle on the floor and picked up another beer bottle from the table. He laughed as the other guys around him clapped and cheered him on. Taking a swig, he shook his head as the alcohol went down his throat to his belly, filling him with a slightly burning, pleasant sensation.
He knew he needed to stop, as he’d had more than a couple of bottles already, but instead, he lifted his hand in triumph and finished the one in his other hand. He threw a challenging glare at Samuel, his friend and drinking buddy, who was sitting beside him. The other students who had come to the party at the off-campus apartment Jude shared with Samuel turned to look at Samuel. “Your turn, Sammie,” Jude said, grinning.
Samuel’s eyes fluttered open. He looked almost out of it, drunk out of his mind. He nodded and slowly lifted a bottle of beer to his lips and downed it. Shaking his head, he said in a slurry voice, “No more, Jude. You win.” He stood up, swayed on his feet, and then collapsed again on the chair.
The others laughed.
“Finally, you yield,” Jude said.
Samuel shut his eyes and leaned back.
Jude patted his shoulder and smiled. After several drinks, Samuel was wiped out, while his own vision was still clear, his mind still alert. He had won the drinking game as always. The others slapped his back and cheered him as the winner. This was what he was known for — the guy who could drink anyone on campus under the table. He laughed again as Samuel began to snore, passed out in the chair. Ben, a friend of theirs with a complexion as dark as Jude’s, rushed into the living room and hurried toward him, a worried look on his face.
“Jude, I need to speak to you,” Ben said when he got to him. Jude frowned as Ben grabbed his hand, pulled him up from the sofa, and began to pull him out of the living room. The other boys tried to hold on, but Ben tugged harder and finally managed to pull him out of their grasp. Jude let Ben pull him out of the room and then out onto the porch, curious and eager to know why his friend looked so agitated.
As they stood outside, Jude studied Ben. The night air blew on his face and that, combined with Ben’s troubled look, helped to wash away the slight woozy effect from the large amount of alcohol he’d just consumed. He looked up at the darkening sky and then faced Ben again.
Ben leaned on the balustrade that encircled the porch and heaved a loud sigh. “There’s trouble, Jude.” He rubbed his bald head. “I should have done something a long time ago, bro. I don’t want you to be next.”
“What are you talking about, Ben? You’re scaring me, man. What is wrong?”
“It’s Paul. He’s been deported.”
Jude grabbed the railing to steady himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the bad news that made him feel suddenly dizzy or the effects of the alcohol, but this was bad. This was really bad.
“How did it happen… and when?” he asked Ben.
“A few days ago,” Ben answered. “ICE came and grabbed him.” Ben snapped his fingers. “Just like that! I am afraid that you are going to be next, Jude.”
Jude shuddered. He shut his eyes and put his hand on his forehead. His head ached. Even though this news was sudden and had taken him by surprise, he really should not have been shocked. An acquaintance of his had been removed from the country about a year and a half ago. At that time, though, his situation had been different from what it was now. Still, when a lot of things began to change for him, he had chosen to ignore everything, even though he knew he was at risk of being deported himself. He opened his eyes and said to Ben, “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Ben answered.
He chided himself for not taking his immigration status seriously. A year ago, he would not have cared about any of this. In fact, he would have left America by now. He had planned to go back to his country, Bakali, as soon as he’d graduated his Master’s program at the University of Arizona, but a lot had happened over the past year that made it impossible for him to do so. His dad, who had been his all and had sponsored his education to the United States, had suddenly died last year. Thankfully, his father had already paid his tuition fees. He had made enough money from his part-time job to take care of his basic needs. With no close family in his country and friends who were no more, there was nothing and no one to go back to. If he was removed from America...
He groaned and tried not to think of the implications. And yet he had to, because he was as good as deported now. His F1 visa had expired a few weeks ago.
Ben said, “Thank God I didn’t listen to you when you insisted that we apply for CPT last year. At least under the optional training, I still have time to try to adjust my immigration status.” He sighed. “We need to come up with a plan for you as soon as possible.”
Jude put his hand on his forehead. The loud partying from inside the house, coupled with the intense fear of his inevitable deportation, had given him a migraine that he was sure would stay with him until he was removed from this country. If only Dad had not died. If only Keziah had not broken up with him...
“Jude!” Ben stared thoughtfully at him. “Maybe you could seek for asylum.”
In spite of himself, Jude chuckled. “Or maybe I should move to Mexico before ICE can get a hold of me.”
“I am serious, Jude,” Ben said. “After all, your country is embroiled in violence now. You could say you are a refugee…”
“I doubt that will fly, especially as I am not. I have to be a true refugee or be in real danger from the government of my country to seek asylum here, and even then, the chances of being successful are slim.”
Ben stared at him, and Jude shrugged. “I came across an article about asylum seekers one day and casually scanned it. I had not overstayed my visa at the time and wasn’t even planning to remain in this country after my post-graduate studies.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t try to help you.” Ben chuckled even though he still looked worried.
Jude said, “You know, you are lucky, Ben. Even if you end up not adjusting your status, you could go back to your country and live comfortably there. Your parents are well-off and will be glad to have you back. Once you go back, you will probably get a good job through their connections. But I have nothing and no one in my country to go back to anymore. Plus the violence
going on there is escalating daily. I am afraid that war might break out soon.” He sighed wearily. “I don’t want to leave America. I have started to build a life for myself here.”
Ben pursed his lips and nodded. “I guess you’re right,” he said. I’ll probably leave the United States soon.” He put his hand on Jude’s shoulder, and then he gasped loudly.
“What is it?” Jude asked.
“I might have a solution for you, but it’s a very unconventional one.”
Jude stared curiously at him. “What solution, Ben?”
“I might know someone who can help you.” Ben smiled, and turned his face away from Jude.
“Ben, out with it! Tell me what solution you have for me.”
“You know my friend, Shaffar?”
Jude frowned. “Yes… your scrawny friend with shifty eyes. That guy is a criminal, isn’t he? I am surprised he hasn’t been locked up yet.”
Ben laughed. “He’s not a criminal. Anyway, he works with a small agency that helps migrants.”
Jude narrowed his eyes and asked with suspicion, “An agency that ‘helps’ migrants? Helps them in what way?”
“Well, they can connect you with a girl who is willing to marry you so you can get your Green card. In exchange for cash, of course.”
Jude laughed harshly. “Ben! And you said your friend isn’t a criminal.”
Ben said, “Emphasis on the word ‘willing,’ Jude. The American girls they find don’t mind marrying an immigrant and filing for an adjustment of status for them. They are paid in installments, with the final payment after you have gotten your Green card. I think the girl keeps most of the money, but the agency takes a percentage. Once you have the Green card, you get a quick divorce, and that is that. I think parting with some cash to get your permanent residency is not a bad deal.”
Jude shook his head slowly. “What you are talking about is fraud, my friend. I won’t do it! But I am not surprised that your friend, Shaffar, is a fraudster. I am just surprised that you think there is nothing wrong with what he does.”
