Not a penny more, not a penny less. Exactly twenty-three hundred dollars.
Enough for half a bottle of my medication.
The fitting room door did nothing to block sound. I heard Rebecca's laughter, soft and breathy, laced with suggestive little moans.
"Sean... you're going to wrinkle the dress..."
Then came his low laugh.
"Let everyone know how much I love you. What's wrong with that?"
Intimate. Sticky-sweet. Each word sliced into me like a blade, carving deeper with every syllable.
I clutched the bills in my fist, listening to Rebecca's coy whimpers, listening to Sean's husky voice.
He said, "Don't bite down so hard."
He said, "Relax."
My face went numb. The pain in my chest swelled until it felt like my heart was bleeding from the inside out.
But I'd left the house without my pills. So I repeated it to myself, over and over: Didn't I abort that baby so I could survive?
And if I'm going to survive, I have to earn money. That's just how it is.
Money doesn't care how you earn it. On your knees or on your feet, it spends the same.
I don't know how long it was before Rebecca finally emerged, her face flushed, a vivid red mark blooming on her neck.
"Sean, this salesgirl gave excellent service. Very obedient."
Sean pulled out another wad of cash and tossed it at me.
"Pick it up on your knees. Consider it a tip."
I knelt. One bill at a time, I gathered them from the floor and pressed them together in my palm.
"Thank you, sir. Very generous of you."
I forced a smile. But he reached down and tilted my chin up with his hand, forcing my eyes to meet his.
Then his thumb brushed across my cheek. The touch was ice-cold as it swept past the corner of my eye.
I'd been crying. Tears had already streaked down my entire face.
He said my name. "Elaine. After all these years, this is what you've become."
I looked up at him from my knees. At that face that had once wept for me. At those eyes that had once held nothing but me.
"You earned your money standing tall. I earned mine on my knees. We're both just trying to put food on the table. What makes you better than me?"
Sean stared at me for a long time. Then, suddenly, he smiled.
"I hope you're still this tough later."
He turned, slid his arm around Rebecca's waist, and walked out the door.
I stayed on my knees, bills crumpled in my fist, tears still wet on my face.
The manager walked over and nudged my shin with her foot.
"Alright, alright, they're gone. Clean yourself up. Weren't you taking the afternoon off for the hospital? Get going."
I managed a smile at her, took the money, and limped out on bruised knees, hobbling all the way to the hospital.
In the cardiology office, the senior physician took off his glasses and studied my test results. He let out a long sigh.
"Elaine, when we advised you to terminate the pregnancy, it was because your heart couldn't have carried to full term. If you'd had that baby, it would have killed you."
"But the way things are going now, you might not even last another month. You're only twenty-nine. Are you really going to give up?"
I lifted my head and gave him a smile.
"I just came to pick up my prescription, Dr. Chavez. I'll go home and take it."
"Pills aren't going to cut it. You need surgery!"
"I can't afford it."
Three words. They stopped him cold.
He was quiet for a while. Then he said, "I heard your ex-husband has done very well for himself."
"He's my ex-husband, not my enemy. What's so hard about asking? Nothing's more important than staying alive."
My throat tightened. I held back the tears and looked at Dr. Chavez.
After a long silence, I shook my head.
"I owe him too much."
The heart condition had been discovered in the second year of my marriage. That same year, I found out I was pregnant.
It started with shortness of breath and a tightness in my chest. I went to the hospital behind Sean's back and had myself examined. Dr. Chavez looked at my results and told me:
