I remember how much I wanted to run away from Paul at that moment. The boys were safe, all of my belongings were packed up and driving away. But there was still one more step. We needed him to sign the dissolution papers. And then Paul had walked out of Sloopy’s, squinting in the bright sunshine, looking like the handsome man I’d married. Sure, ten years had taken a little toll, and he had a small pouch around his tummy I used to like to tease him about, but still. His smile was bright and it seemed just for me. Part of me still admired the way he walked toward me with a swagger in his step. The confidence. All of those things drew me to him; all of those things almost killed me. In that moment I could almost forget we were enemies. Almost.
The other thing that kept me from running was the fact Buck would be waiting for me at the cottage. Where Paul had swagger, Buck had substance. I realize the difference now. And even though I wouldn’t be able to fall into Buck’s arms, not yet, I would be able to stand next to him. Absorb more strength with him by my side. As Paul pulled the Ford Flex into the driveway of our cottage I almost didn’t wait for the car to stop moving before opening the door. Walking as fast as I could without running, I made it to the garden. And there was Buck, as promised. He smiled, his dimple showing. Calming my nerves.
“Take a deep breath, Mia. It’s all going to be over soon,” he said. We were standing side by side, pretending to look at the strawberry beds. “You have this. You are safe. Hear me? Are you okay?”
“Now, yes,” I said. I could feel Paul approaching us from behind as chills spread down my spine. As relieved as I was to finally stand next to Buck, I knew I had a long night in front of me. I just had no idea at the time how long the night would become.
My finest piece of acting had to be at the restaurant that night. I was forced to leave the safety of Buck’s presence at our cottage, and climb back into the car with my husband. It was part of the plan, of course, and necessary to provide Buck with the opportunity to search Paul’s things, and to get them dropped off at the inn. He also used the time to make sure all of the cameras he’d placed inside the cottage were working. He tested the panic button he’d installed earlier in the week. It worked, thank goodness.
While Buck set the rest of our trap, I suffered through our last supper. The meal was torture, even with the kind waiter trying to protect me from Paul’s ugly comments. Every moment of that supposed-to-be-elegant dinner was an act: trying to pretend I was sitting across from someone I still loved when actually I hated him, hate him still. My mind flashed to the photo of a young woman’s battered face, and then to one of Paul holding up a nightgown as he flirted with a different young woman, who I now know is named Gretchen, at a lingerie store. And even though there was no photo of it until after our dinner, as he tampered with my brandy, I saw white powder in his gloved hands, stirred into my evening tea, swirled into my Greek yogurt.
All of his lies, all of his manipulations coursed through my mind during that dinner but I couldn’t accuse him of anything, I couldn’t tip my hand.
I was in a panic, sweaty and jittery until the moment I saw Buck through the window, standing outside on the deck of the restaurant, watching me, guarding me. I couldn’t help but smile, even though I knew Paul thought I was looking at myself in the shiny glass. He would think I was vain. I wasn’t. I was smiling about our signal. The thumbs-up sign from Buck meant that everything was in place, that we had Paul and the proof of the poisoning that we needed. The proof meant this charade was almost all over. As I smiled my relief out the window, I felt strong. This day would forever be the start of the rest of my life. The best day ever, in fact, just not the one Paul envisioned.
Sometimes I wish I could have seen Paul’s face, confidence shaken when he was taken into custody inside his own home. Did his heart fall when he discovered his kids were gone, or did he tell himself he’d win in the end? I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when he opened my little red envelope. No doubt, in his messed up way, he thought it was a love note from me to him. I wonder if, just for a moment, he felt sorry about what he had done. Did his heart drop at everything he’d lost? Most of the time, though, I’m glad I didn’t see his reaction. It probably would have been my final disappointment.
As Paul was discovering all the surprises I had in store for him at home, I was at the hospital with Buck. The early-morning hours were scary as I saw Buck’s injuries and realized exactly what Paul was capable of doing to another human being. I watched as Buck was admitted and hooked up to machines, all the while wondering if the police in Columbus would actually catch Paul or if he’d outsmart us all. I just had a sinking feeling he would get away. The wait was terrifying. The call came at sunrise, informing us Paul had been booked on robbery charges.
“Robbery? That’s all?” I said, incredulous. Buck’s team had called his phone. I picked up the call.
“It’s all they have, ma’am,” the man said. “He’ll probably post bail in a few hours. Stay safe.” Later, I would discover he had secret credit cards. It had taken months to sort out his financial schemes once he was gone.
I looked at Buck, sleeping thanks to some IV drugs, and realized it was fine. We would stay safe. With Buck by my side, Paul wouldn’t dare come back. He’d signed the papers. We’d won. His only choice was to scamper away in the night. I fell asleep sitting up in the chair next to Buck’s hospital bed, and even so, it was one of the best rests I’d had in months.
The next day, Buck was released from the hospital. I drove us back to Lakeside. As I pulled into my driveway, a chill spread down my spine. Buck grabbed my hand.
“Let’s go to my place.”
I nodded, turned off the engine and hurried to help Buck open the door. With his bruised ribs, he’d need to take it easy for a bit and I didn’t mind. It was my turn to take care of him for a while.
Even with the pain in his side, Buck was beaming. It was a beautiful summer day. Trees heavy with green leaves, kids pedaling by on rented bicycles. I’d never been inside Buck’s cottage, even though we’d spent two weeks together the summer before, gardening. It wouldn’t have been appropriate. My boys had been with me and, well, I was afraid Paul was watching. I felt like he always was watching me. Now I know that was true. As Buck opened the door and stepped to the side to let me in, walking gingerly, I had been surprised by his cottage’s sleek sophistication. It was as if I was walking into a home and garden magazine’s interpretation of the perfect lake house.
“Nice place you have here,” I said. I was taking in the white linen sofas, the dark hardwood floors, the sleek stainless steel light fixtures and the large white stone fireplace of the family room.
“Glad you like it,” he said. I watched as he closed and locked the door, sliding in a dead bolt. My husband was gone, but Buck still was on high alert. My hero. “You’re safe now, Mia.”
Buck stepped closer to me, and finally, I could fall into his arms. In the hospital, he was tended to by his staff and the nurses. Neither then nor now was the time for passion, of course. It was time for relief, for appreciation, for freedom. We simply stood in his cottage and held each other. It was a new start.
I’m stronger now. It helps that we keep tabs on Paul, that we know where he is, what he’s up to down in Florida, Palm Beach of all places. I hope there will come a day when I don’t wonder if he’ll appear back in our lives; I hope there will be a time when I’m certain he has moved on. I want to believe that if I can move on, so can he. As he said the last time we saw each other, I disgusted him. Probably, given everything that transpired, his feelings of disgust have intensified. I just hope those feelings don’t turn to revenge. Buck tells me not to worry. They are tracking him. We will be the first to know if Paul ever decides to make his way back to Ohio. He says it’s time to heal, to move on.
Together, as a family. This time, my fiancé has my parents’ glowing endorsement. Especially since we are house-hunting in New York City, where the boys will once again live close to grandparents who love them. We’ll keep the Lakeside cottages for now. The place is still special. Paul can’t take that away from us.
“Mom, it’s time to go eat,” Sam says now, running up to me and grabbing my hand. His face is flushed bright red from playing basketball. He’s happy, and hungry. He’s normal.
“Did you have fun playing with Buck?” I ask. I love the feel of his sweaty little hand in mine and I hold on tight.
“Yeah! Best day ever,” he says.
I swallow at the use of his dad’s phrase and smile. “Yes, it was,” I tell him. “The best day ever.”
* * * * *
