Or maybe the bruises were from the fall I’d taken at the hotel. I couldn’t be sure. I scrubbed my hair with cautious movements, every twist or turn of my wrists felt as if it was tearing the wounds open again. I touched my face gingerly under the water, trying to assess the extent of the damage.
“Almost done?” Peter asked, when I’d apparently been taking too long. The shape of him was blurry through the shower door, but still, I could see the knife in his hands.
I actively fought to stop the thoughts that told me I caused this. That this was my fault, and if I’d walked away all those years ago, I wouldn’t be here.
I’d chosen my fate. Chosen to accept what my husband was and believe he could never be a monster to me. I chose to believe I was the exception, but we’re never really the exception, are we? None of us.
I’d stayed with him for the children, believing it was in their best interest that we stay together. Now, it was as if the curtain had been lifted and I could see every mistake I’d made along the way. Every wrong turn.
I could see my future—a future with Peter. A future of fear.
It wasn’t what I wanted. There was no doubt in my mind anymore. I had to end this, I had to protect the kids, but I wasn’t sure I could do it. The fixer in me was giving up. Shutting down. She was tired, angry, burned out.
He handed me a towel when I shut off the water, and I patted my body dry, wrapping it around myself. “I can’t believe you did that to your hair.”
I ignored him. “Did you bring my clothes home?”
“I had to empty your suitcase in the hotel room to get you here.”
I ignored the fact that my husband had just told me he stuffed my unconscious body into a suitcase in order to lock me in a murder room and shuffled past him. “Did all of my stuff get burned in the fire?”
“No. Most of it’s fine. I threw out what was ruined and fixed the bed. I shampooed the carpet and I might have to repaint the ceiling, but other than that, you’d never know.”
I pushed open the bedroom door, the smoke smell overwhelming me, and began coughing. He crossed the room, opening a window. “It’s been closed up for a few days… I’ve been sleeping on the couch, waiting for…for you to come home.” He opened the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Here, will these work?”
I opened my drawer and grabbed a bra and underwear, hardly paying attention to the clothes he’d handed me as I slid them on. “Now what?”
“Brush your hair. Where are the kids? We’ll go pick them up.”
I dug in the drawer of my vanity, pulling out a comb and running it through my hair quickly. “Don’t you want me to take the test first? I thought you’d want to go get it.”
“We can do that on the way.”
I paused, thinking. There went that plan for escape.
“Well? Where are they?” he demanded, growing impatient.
“They’re with Glennon,” I admitted, my voice low.
“Glennon? What, in Canada?”
“No, they’re home for a while.”
“Oh. So, they’re at Glennon’s house? I was just there looking for you.”
“They haven’t been there long. Glennon and Seth just came home yesterday,” I said. “To watch the kids. I should call and tell her we’re on the way. Do you have my phone?”
He dug in his pocket and pulled it out, handing it to me and moving to stand closer. “Don’t…don’t try anything stupid, okay?”
His tone had changed. He almost did sound regretful now.
I turned the phone on, ignoring the voicemails I had from work and Glennon, and opened my texts. “I’ll just send her a message.”
He nodded, watching me closely.
I opened my contacts and tapped G, typing out a quick message: I’m with Peter. We’re coming to pick up the kids today. Want to meet us at the park by my house?
“Why the park?” Peter asked apprehensively, after I’d already pressed send.
“They were supposed to go there today. I don’t want to ruin their plans.”
He didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded in the direction of my screen. “She’s typing.”
My heart pounded in my chest, praying she’d understand.
See you in an hour.
I closed out of the message and slid my phone in my pocket, but Peter held out his hand. “Give it back to me.”
“Don’t you think the kids will think it’s odd that you’re holding my phone hostage?”