"That look. I can feel your eyes on me. Those boring brown eyes. I hate your face. I do. You keep looking at me and all I can I think is, I hate your fucking face. But I don't glance up. I don't say that. I never say the thoughts in my head.The oscillating fan blows one strand of flyaway hair in my face and I re-tuck it for the hundredth time. I should switch seats, but it'll only provoke him more. It's hot. Shirt-sticking, sweat-beading kind of hot, the kind not usually synonymous with mid-May. I lift my eyes up in time to see a shiny bead of sweat roll down his temple.The central air broke last August. No one will come out to fix it until mid-June because I forgot to call the guy back in March like he told me to. Thanks to this week's unexpected high temps, he hasn't let me forget that fact. Why let it go when he can come up with a thousand ways to remind me I screwed up? My husband is not the kind of man who lets anything go..."So begins Livvy's story. A look inside the world of a woman at the crossroads of her life. Stay where she's miserable yet secure, or jump into the unknown? A story for anyone who's ever lost their way.