I blame love. Love is a habit, a routine; a word repeated until it is believed. Maybe it was a form of psychosis. A shared hallucination.
He thought I didn’t love him enough. After one of our long, drawn-out arguments, I would sometimes think,yes, he’s right, I don’t love him enough. It’s my fault. I just need to try harder.
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
I wasn’t stupid, though. I could see what was happening. He was making plans for my life, and every day those plans became more entrenched in his mind. Marriage, babies, a house. All of it.
And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I could have so easily slipped into that life. On paper, he was the perfect man. Just after we got together, Neil Rotman became a partner at Simmel and Dewitt, a prominent law firm in the city.
And what was I? A docile do-gooder who spent her youth caring for her sick mother? A woman pushing thirty who has only just graduated from college, with no real work history or skill, a woman fit to breed, and little else?
No. That can’t be true. I won’t let that be true.
“How does that sound?”
I haven’t heard a word Bradley has said, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll work for free if they give me room and board.
“Great,” I say. My voice shakes. “Are you offering me the job?”
“Sure.” He says this as if it’s an inconsequential decision, as if he’s not literally saving my life. “Let’s do it.”
I see the security guard walking slowly across the lot. I can’t stay in this car for another week. Even if I can get food and shelter, I’ll need money.
I can’t go to my friends, because they’re all friends of Neil and they’ll push me back into his orbit. And I can’t go to my family because I don’t have one anymore.
“When can I start?”
“As soon as possible. How’s next week?”
Instead of the nightstick, the guard has something even more terrifying in her hand: a phone. If I don’t leave, she’s going to write me up for a ticket.
“I’ve got a better idea,” I say, starting the engine. “How about tomorrow?”
CHAPTER TWO
I spend the night at a rest stop just outside the city, listening to the trucks coming and going around me. As with the mall, there’s a sign saying it’s illegal to stay the night, but I have no choice. I can’t waste my gas driving around the city, and at least it’s busy here.
In the morning, I loiter inside the service station reading the free newspaper until it’s time to leave. I clean myself with wet wipes in the restroom and change into fresh clothes. My hair is greasy, and no amount of makeup can conceal the fact that I haven’t slept for two nights. But at least I don’t look or smell like a homeless person.
As I get into the car, I plug in my phone and see the notifications.
36 missed calls.
15 voice mails.
87 text messages.
All from Neil. He must be frantic. When I left, I didn’t bother making an excuse. I just waited for him to go to work, then packed everything I could into my tiny car. This might sound courageous, but it wasn’t. I was reckless. I should have madeplans. I should have found a job and a place to stay before I left. I should have moved some of his money into a private account.
It’s too late now. I delete all the messages, check the route to Pine Ridge, and begin my drive.
The app saidI’d be at Pine Ridge by twelve, but it’s already twelve-thirty, and I have no idea where I am. My GPS has stopped working, and the gas gauge has been flashing 'empty' for 15 minutes. Somewhere in the maze of single-lane roads out here in the woods, I’ve taken a wrong turn.
When the phone rings, I assume it’s Bradley and answer without checking.
“I’m sorry I’m late?—”
