Simone nodded slowly. “I do. I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Is it alright if I head home? I need some sleep.”
“You’re not being held captive.” Rhiannon softened her voice, nodding to the door. “Take some cookies for the road.”
Another nod, followed by a quiet, “Thanks.”
As Simone returned to the door, Rhiannon’s eyes settled on me. “Do you want to talk about your last straw, Gwen?”
I could. I could say that it was because he’d hit my dog and broken her tooth.
But that hadn’t been my last straw.
My last straw had been the thought that’d circled my mind when I’d seen that gaping hole in my puppy’s face.
If I don’t leave him, I’m going to kill him.
And I’d meant it.
But I couldn’t say that out loud.
So I said, “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
