Camilla took Raisin, as promised, when Jeff arrived. He only smiled and petted the cat’s head before setting him on the back seat of his sedan.
“He’s such a nice guy,” Alicia said, watching their car pull away.
“For how long?” I muttered, refilling my cup with wine.
Men were always nice at first, weren’t they? No one had a second date with someone who treated her poorly or knocked her down on date number one.
“Hey,” Alicia said. “Don’t do that. There are good men in this world. My guys are all examples. There’s one out there for you, too, if you ever decide to look again.”
I released a long, labored sigh. “I think it’s nice that you believe that. Right now, I just want out of the relationship I’m in, but I don’t have the first clue about how to break it to him.”
Alicia raised her cup to mine. “First you say, ‘Robert, you’re a cun—’”
“Stop!” I laughed, cutting her off. “I will not say that.”
She shrugged and took a long drink.
“I spent all the money I saved on Mom’s care,” I said. “It’ll take me years to save that much again.”
“Oh, no. You are not doing that.” Alicia set her wine aside and fixed me in a firm stare. “You talked to all those attorneys last year, and you had a favorite. Remember her?”
I nodded. “Jill.”
“Call her,” she said. “Let her remind you that regardless of what Robert says, everything the two of you have built together in twenty-two years of marriage belongs to you both. It’s not his to parcel out as he deems fit. He can’t keep it from you, and he can’t take it away.”
“He doesn’t like to lose.” And he hated any threat to his money. “Divorce can take a year or more. What if he won’t leave the house whilewe go through the process? I can’t live with him under those conditions. He’d make it his daily mission to torture me.”
“So leave,” she said. Her eyes brightened with mischief. “He doesn’t have to be the one who moves out. I believe I recall you saying you wanted to pack your things while he was at work and be gone when he got home. Let’s do that.”
I felt my lips curve into a smile as hope flickered inside me. With Alicia’s family’s help, and Robert’s long hours, I could pack up without him around to complain, berate, or stress me out. Then I’d only have to say the words and walk away.
I bit my lip, wanting desperately to believe it was possible. Leaving was a risk. Robert was an estate attorney. He was manipulative and greedy, with a network of other lawyers at his disposal. I was sure he could take me down if he wanted. My warped instincts told me to remain quiet and small and stay where I was.Don’t cause trouble.It made sense to stay. The devil I knew was manageable. The devil I didn’t know—everything outside my carefully cultivated life—was terrifying.
The ember of hope inside me wasn’t ready to let this conversation go. “Where would I stay?” I asked. The words had barely left my mouth before I knew the answer.
Alicia raised her eyes to something over my shoulder.
And I followed her gaze to my newly inherited home.
Chapter Seven
It only took a few weeks to get everything into place. I completed the paperwork and signed the retainer for an attorney I hoped could outsmart my husband if he tried to be sneaky, then wrote a check she promised not to cash until the end of the week. In doing that, she gave me the gift of time. I just had to tell him I was leaving before he noticed ten grand had disappeared from our account.
Alicia and I had started packing the morning after Mom’s funeral, and she took the boxes with her when she left. First I packed up my books, excess clothing, and personal items collected over the years. I didn’t touch anything Robert used or might miss. As the big day grew closer, I was shocked that he didn’t notice anything awry. Apparently he didn’t notice anything about me or the house as long as it all appeared clean and pretty. He never said a word about the vanishing cake pans, mixing bowls, or cookie sheets. Didn’t comment on the hundreds of novels suddenly nowhere to be seen, or the fact I lost seven pounds by directing my energy toward something that made me feel good instead of eating my feelings late into the night.
According to my attorney, the bank accounts would be divided in the end, as would any retirement or savings. We’d each keep our car, and any other assets were negotiable, so long as the split was equitable. That all seemed fair to me.
I used the local library’s computer to set up a website and social media for the Invisible Baker, then routed payments to my newlyestablished bank account through PayPal. With a little research and a hundred bucks, I even registered an LLC for the business. I figured that the money from the division of marital assets would keep me afloat for the next few years as my business grew. Until then, I had a brain, a talent for baking, and a plan.
I fell asleep each night astonished and hopeful. My freedom was one conversation away. I just had to tell Robert what he didn’t see happening right before his eyes.
When the day came, I sat with my thoughts all evening, awaiting his return from work. My bravery wavered and faded with each passing hour, but it was too late to turn back. My SUV was packed, and my closet was empty.
The garage door opened around seven p.m.
My hands shook as I walked to the kitchen and leaned against the familiar granite countertop for moral and physical support. The house was still and quiet with only the evening sunlight streaming through the windows and the sound of chirping birds to fill the space. My phone, normally on the counter in its dock, playing music while I cooked, sat safely in my back pocket.
Robert strode inside, loosening his tie, eyes searching. “Hey,” he said.
