My fists balled by my side. Maybe the cottage was run-down. Maybe it wasn’t decorated with the soulless precision of his mansion on the waterfront. There was no exposed concrete, stark white walls, or ugly abstract art. This was my house. I’d fought for a place of my own and every pink tea cosy and fluffy pillow in it.
Chris’s back turned as he continued listing his grievances with my decorating.
My eyes were wild in every direction. I needed a plan. It would only take one false step—one wrong word—to snap the thread of control holding back his rage.
I’d only have one chance.
I needed more time.
I touched a cautious hand to his arm. “Chris?” His eyes snapped to mine, anger swirling, barely contained, and I fought the urge to cower back. “You must be tired after your flight… I could make you some coffee…or…something to eat?” I took a step towards the fridge, but his hand shot out and yanked me back. “I have some cake—”
“We’ll get something on the road,” he hissed. “It’s time to go.”
“G-go?”
“Yes. Go. Home. You’ve frolicked about on your ridiculous escape to the country long enough. We’re going home. Tonight.”
“T-tonight?”
“Did you get even stupider since you moved to this backwater? Yes. T-t-t-tonight. I have a suite booked in the city.” He bent his head closer to whisper, “And when we get there, you can spend the rest of the night proving to me just how sorry you are.”
I wasn’t going. He’d have to drag me kicking and screaming all the way to the city. I didn’t want to be chained to some cold, posh suite with a monster looming over me, stealing love from me he’d never earned.
I wanted to twirl in my pretty dress and slip on the high heels that I could barely walk in so Aiden didn’t have to bend so far to nuzzle his nose in my hair. I wanted to be at the winery. I wanted to be on my romantic date.
My heart twisted.
Was Aiden already waiting for me? He was always early for our coffee dates. Was he nervous? Did Ruth talk him into wearing another shirt he hated just to impress me? And when I didn’t come, would he think I was trying to hurt him the way he’d hurt me all those months ago? The world swayed and blurred. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.
That couldn’t be our ending.
Chris’s eyes bulged when I tugged my arm back. “No,” I said, ignoring the flare of his nostrils. A warning. But I needed to riskhis wrath. I needed more time. “I can’t. I need things—clothes—to pack.”
“Nothing in your wardrobe is worth bringing. Like this thing.” He flicked the hem of my shirt. “Hideous.”
The cruel comments no longer stung, but my options for bargaining for more time were running out. My mind raced. Chris was too clever. Too cunning. He’d see through me if I lied. The truth was risky, but sticking as close to it as possible was all I had.
“I had p-plans tonight… M-my friend will be waiting…for…for me.”
“Then let her wait!” Chris spat. “I’ve waited six fucking months, Lola! Do you have any idea how much money I’ve wasted chasing you halfway across the country? Do you have any idea how much fucking grief your father gave me? Do you? No one else would put up with the insane shit you’ve put me through! You should be on your fucking knees thanking your lucky stars that I still want your pathetic little arse.”
“Chris—”
He shoved me towards the back door. “We’re going.”
“Please. It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone. A-and…m-my friend… You know the type… She’ssucha worrywart.” I was ashamed that I couldn’t stop the fear weaving through my voice. I wanted to be strong—the girl I was yesterday. “She’ll call the police if I don’t show up. Please…”
I twisted away from Chris, heading to the doorway. A flutter of hope flickered in my stomach. Another step away. Getting closer. If I could get my phone, I’d have options. Brooke. Ruth. They’d come. They’d help me.
“I’ll just message her—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Chris’s eyes narrowed. “No calls. No messages.” He yanked me back against his chest. “We’re going. Now.”
Tears trickled down my cheeks. I was failing. I was running out of options. “Can I get my bag? Or…my…p-purse? What if I need to show ID at the airport…or…or…something?” I pointed down the hall. “I dropped it by the front door when I came home.”
Chris arched his neck to look past me. Even in the dark, he’d be able to see the pink lump. He scowled, thinking it over for a moment, and then his chin dropped in a nod. He loomed closer at my heels than my own shadow as I padded down the hallway.
My eyes zeroed in on the old brass doorknob.
