I sorely regret my alcohol intake last night when I wake up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a mouth that tastes and feels like sandpaper. I roll over in bed and see the empty spot next to me. It’s the first time in our entire marriage that Sam went to the couch to sleep. I have a bad feeling it won’t be the last.

While I’m lying in bed, the doorbell chimes sound throughout the apartment. I rub my eyes, wincing at the noise. I can’t even imagine who would be coming here on a weekday morning. I’m certainly not expecting anyone.

Oh my God, is it the police coming to arrest me?

My heart is slamming in my chest as I race out to the door in my bare feet. I lean in to look through the peephole, and I nearly faint with relief when I see my old assistant Gertie standing there. She’s clutching a shopping bag from the grocery store in one hand, her cane in the other, and beaming at the door.

I fling the door open and her face breaks out in a smile when she sees me. Well, until she gets a closer look at me. It’s disturbing the way her eyes widen and she takes a step back. I wish I had checked a mirror first before I ran out here.

“Abby!” she gasps. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

No, I’m just hungover. But I don’t say that. “Yeah, it’s been rough lately.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here!” She holds up the shopping bag. “You were so sad last time I saw you. I wanted to make you some breakfast.”

“That’s really sweet, but…”

Apparently, Gertie is not taking no for an answer. She pushes past me and quickly makes herself at home in our kitchen. Within seconds, she’s running water and clanging pots.

“Can I do anything to help?” I ask.

She waves me away. “Of course not! You go, um… freshen up.”

I can take a hint.

I stumble in the direction of the bedroom to check out the damage. I almost gasp when I see the circles under my eyes and my hair sticking up in defiance of gravity. When I was in my twenties, I could throw back a bunch of drinks and still look gorgeous in the morning, but not so much now. I run a brush through my black hair, and dab on some makeup.

There. Better.