After my monster —Damien— left last night, I spent hours racking my brain for some way out of this mess that didn’t include killing Tony. Nothing came to me, other than the obvious; there’s no way I can raise or earn $500k in time to save this house. Still, I know one thing for sure, I need a job. No matter what happens, being gainfully employed will keep my car running, pay for health insurance, and stock groceries in the fridge, not to mention what it will do for my mental well-being. If I've learned one thing, it’s that I never want to be dependent on someone like Tony again.
I plan to start my hunt for employment at Echo Mills High School. With any luck, Principal Singer will give me my old teaching position back. It’s mid-school year, though, so I’m not holding my breath. Still, I’ve got to try.
But the moment I see Grams, I know my plans will have to wait. Today is a bad day. She can’t get out of bed and is running a fever. I wrap her in a comforter and hold herwhen the chills come. Even through the puffy down, I can feel her bones. It’s easy to forget how frail she’s become when she’s wearing bulky sweaters. She’s lost so much weight. She’s literally wasting away and I silently curse the cancer that eats her from the inside.
When she vomits her pain pill, I clean up the sick and call the hospice line. Thankfully, the nurse has foreseen this turn of events and directs me to where she left the medicated patches. She reminds me that this is a normal part of the process, as is her loss of appetite, as if my grandmother’s death is like a pregnancy, a natural event that’s progressing to an inevitable end. I push her words out of my brain the moment I hear them. I’m not ready. I don’t want to think about it.
I administer a pain patch to the back of her shoulder and am relieved when the muscles of her face finally relax. With my back propped against her headboard, I hold her in my arms, her mostly bald head tucked under my chin, and rock her until she falls asleep. It’s past two in the afternoon when I sense I can safely leave the room and let her rest. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since the night before, and I tiptoe to the kitchen to see what I can throw together.
Halfway through a ham sandwich, I phone Maeve.
“I have a client in my waiting room. Try to make it quick,” she says.
“Okay, um, sorry. I found out yesterday that Tony’s affair with Tamara started before I left him. Doesn’t his infidelity count for anything?”
“You called off the advocate.” A disappointed sigh fills the line.
“Yes. Damien agreed not to kill him. But now I’m back where I started.”
“Damien?”
“That’s his name. The advocate. His name is Damien.”
“You’re on a first-name basis with the monster now?” Maeve laughs incredulously.
“Wait. Aren’t you? He’s worked for your family for centuries, and you don’t know his name?”
“Just call him the advocate, Eloise. He’s not a friend. He’s not even a person. Think of him as a tool. You’re compelling a creature of the night to do your bidding, not getting to know him over tea.”
“I’m not comfortable with that.”
Maeve groans and abruptly changes the subject. “Unfortunately, neither Tony’s infidelity nor his domestic abuse of you dissolves the prenuptial agreement because the contract has a no-fault clause. Basically, that means that it doesn’t matter if one of you caused the divorce through your actions or inactions. It doesn’t nullify the agreement.”
With my fist pressed against my forehead, I lean an elbow on the table and close my eyes. “I confronted Tony about the house last night after I stopped Damien from killing him. It didn’t go well.” My voice cracks and my eyes sting with the memory.
“What did he do?” Maeve demands.
“Tried to choke me with my necklace.” My cheeks heat.
“Fucking asshole.”
“I’m embarrassed to admit I let it happen again.”
She blows out a breath. “You didn’t let anything happen. He assaulted you. Is there evidence we can take to the police? Bruises or?—”
“No,” I say, remembering how Damien healed me. I consider sharing that tidbit with Maeve, then hold it back. If she doesn’t like me calling him by his first name,she definitely won’t like hearing about our make-out session. “No bruises.”
“Shit. Don’t try it again. It’s clear he won’t budge and next time it could be worse. He’s an evil bastard. You should have let the advocate do what he does best.”
“Yeah, yeah, murder him. I’ve heard you, and I’m taking it under advisement. You mentioned before that you’re still pursuing a legal way to stop Tony.”
“It’s a long shot.”
“Tell me more.”
I hear a door open and then papers shuffling. Maeve whispers to her secretary to give her five minutes. The door closes again. “There are three ways to nullify a prenup in Virginia,” Maeve says, coming back on the line. “The first is to prove that you signed it under duress.”
“I didn’t,” I admit. “I thought it was a formality and that we’d be together forever.”
