Chapter 38 - The CrossroadShe had to walk across the city to pick up a specialized batch of oil paints.
Her route took her down Avenue 8, a street she had actively avoided for over a year.
Halfway down the block was Le Petit Renard, the upscale French restaurant where he had publicly humiliated her on their third anniversary. The place where he had thrown a glass of wine at the wall, inches from her head, while the waiters looked away.
She stopped on the sidewalk.
She looked through the large windows of the restaurant.
People were laughing. Clinking glasses. Eating expensive food.
She waited for the familiar knot of anxiety to form in her stomach. She waited for her palms to sweat. She waited for the panic.
Nothing happened.
It was just a building.
Just bricks, glass, and overpriced food.
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The memory didn't have teeth anymore.
She smiled, adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder, and kept walking.
