Equity (Balance Sheet #3) by Shannon Dermott

not in front of the picture window. With the warm mug in my hand, I tried to think about what to do next.
    Last night, I’d called Lizzy. She had been frantic with worry and wanted me to go back to Kalen if nothing more than for my protection. After I told her the story, her indignant tone only confirmed her words of agreement that I was right for leaving his ass .
    She’d said, “How could he be so cruel? He has to know how you feel.”
    I shrugged and it took a moment to remember she couldn’t see me. “He has a right to be with whoever he wants,” I’d said.
    “Whatever, he’s an ass.”
    I heard my sister in the background echoing her words. “Who’s an ass?”
    Lizzy must have silenced her with the promise of sharing details later because Violet went quiet. A part of me was a little jealous that two of the people I cared about most had each other, while I was alone in a city I’d never been in without a plan.
    While I could have asked to talk to Violet, I wasn’t prepared for a lecture about Turner. I would hear a thousand I told you so’s and how I crushed a guy who deserved much more. Yet, I hadn’t crushed anyone yet.
    “I left Tuner a note telling him to call you. When he does, tell him I’m in Dublin. I’ll try to get a prepaid phone or a SIM card for my phone so that I can accept calls. I’ll get you the number when I have it.”
    “Sure thing, babe. You better stay safe or I’ll hurt you.”
    “Tell Violet I’ll talk to her later. I hope she enjoys New York.”
    “Of course she will. She’s with me,” Lizzy had said before I’d hung up the hotel phone.
    That international call on the hotel line was going to cost me a small fortune, but I had little choice. At least it had been the last transgression I put on my credit card before I lost myself in the city.
    When the memory faded, the small café came into focus. It was just big enough for six small tables in a sort of messy C-shaped formation. The barista bar was right up front. Despite the popular competition on the corner, the place was filled, the language lively. I gathered that all of the patrons except myself were locals.
    As I sat with nothing else to do, another memory assaulted me with so much force I could almost feel and taste it. If I had risen on my toes and kissed Kalen like I had wanted to while he trapped me in against the outside wall of the bar, what would he have done? And what about Turner? Was it right to stay with a man only because of guilt? I loved him, I did. But was that love enough while my heart burned for another?
    I felt as disingenuous as my hair color. What had we been taught growing up? Do unto others as we would have them do to us? And hadn’t I failed that test enough to know karma had come to bite me on the ass? I should have stayed home and lived a simple life with Turner. I would have never known the hurt that I felt now thinking of Kalen with Keely or any other woman.
    Pools of my own pity filled my eyes. I took a napkin from the dispenser on the table to blot my eyes before I brought attention to myself.
    A regal woman in an apron wearing an approachable smile walked distinctly in my direction. When she sat, I wasn’t completely surprised as she looked like she was missionary kind eyes and a pure soul.
    She held out a mug. “You look like you need a fresh cup.”
    She’d taken my order earlier. I smelled the coffee and felt the steam on my hand from the cup as I took it.
    “Thank you,” I said, understanding instantly why this place wasn’t empty. It wasn’t just the delicious cup of coffee or whatever anyone was drinking. It was the service.
    “I don’t mean to pry,” she began.
    I held up my mug, letting her know that the hot drink that replaced the now cold cup I’d been holding earned her a question or two. I couldn’t imagine she’d ask anything terribly personal.
    “You look like you’re in need.”
    I set the cup down to survey myself. Did I look homeless? One glance down at