Chapter 3
Hank’s expression shifted, a flicker of something–guilt, maybe–crossing his face. He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture I’d seen countless times when he knew he’d messed up but wasn‘ ready to admit it.
“Look, Monica,” he said, his voice softening. “Let’s go get dinner. Your favorite place. Let m make up for it.”
Dinner? I stared at him, incredulous. This man had pushed me into traffic, cheated on me with my cousin for years, humiliated me on countless occasions, and now he thought a meal would fix everything?
Was this the value he placed on our relationship? Six years reduced to a dinner?
I didn’t voice these thoughts. Instead, I simply nodded. “Sure, why not?”
This would be our last supper, in a way. A fitting end to this farce of a relationship.
Outside, rain poured from the sky, washing the streets clean. Hank led me to the garage and pulled out his sleek two–seater–the car he only drove on special occasions. I wasn’t impressed. This was the first time he’d ever used it for me, though I’d seen pictures of Lola in it countless times.
First and last, I thought as I slid into the passenger seat.
The drive was followed by complete silence. Then suddenly, to break it, his phone rang. The name “Lola” with a heart emoji beside it flashed on the dashboard display.
I chuckled softly. Of course.
Hank answered through the car’s speaker system. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hank, baby,” Lola’s voice filled the car, trembling slightly. “I feel so lonely tonight and I’m scared It feels like someone is lurking outside my house.”
Hank shot me a panicked look, then quickly returned his attention to the road. Without warning, he pulled the car over to the curb and stopped.
“Baby, I’ll be there ASAP,” he promised. “Just hang on tight.”
He ended the call and turned to me, his expression a mix of embarrassment and impatience. I already understood.
“Get out,” he said finally. “I need to go to Lola, make sure she’s safe. Just get a cab back home. I’ll take you out tomorrow.” He paused, then added, “Sleep, don’t stay up. I might not come home today.”
I laughed a genuine laugh this time. “Gladly,” I said, and stepped out into the pouring rain.
The door slammed behind me, and the car sped away, tires splashing water onto my already soaked clothes. I stood there, rain pelting my face, washing away any tears that might have fallen.
I started walking. No particular destination in mind, just away. Every cab I tried to hail drove past me–no one wanted to pick up a drenched woman who looked like she’d just lost everything. My path took me past a liquor store where a group of men huddled under the awning, bottles in hand. Their eyes followed me as I walked by, their gazes making my skin crawl.
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I quickened my pace, but footsteps splashed behind me. A middle–aged man reeking of brandy grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he slurred. “Come to my place tonight. I’ll give you a good time.”
“Let go of me,” I said, trying to pull away.
His face contorted with anger. “Think you’re too good for me?”
Before I could react, I saw a flash of metal. A knife! Pain exploded in my abdomen as he stabbed -once, twice. I gasped, the air suddenly impossible to catch. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the wet pavement.
Through the rain, I heard tires screeching. A car door slammed. A gunshot cracked through the night, and the drunk man dropped.
Strong arms lifted me. Through my blurry vision, I recognized him.
It was the same man who’d pulled me from the street after Hank pushed me into traffic.
“Stay with me, Monica,” he urged as he carried me to his car. “Don’t leave me like this. You better live.”
“Who are… you?” I managed to whisper.
“Jules,” he answered.
Then he vanished–not from my side, but from my sight as darkness claimed me.
I woke up in a hospital room, alone. My wound had been tended to, but no one sat beside my bed. Even Jules was gone, disappeared without waiting for my thanks.
A doctor entered, clipboard in hand. “Good to see you awake. You can be discharged today.”
“How long have I been out?” I asked, my voice raspy from disuse.
“Ten days.”
The shock must have shown on my face. Ten days? And no one had come? Not even Hank?
Still in my hospital gown, I walked the hallway to get some water while a nurse packed my things. The corridor buzzed with activity–doctors rushing, visitors coming and going.
Then I saw them.
Hank, walking alongside a stretcher where Lola lay. Her hands were bleeding, mascara streaking down her face. Hank looked terrified, holding her hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
As they rolled past me, Hank froze. His face paled as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Monica?” was all he could manage. “You’re… here? In the hospital?”
I laughed, the sound hollow in the sterile corridor. “Of course you didn’t know. Yes, I was battling for my life here. For ten whole days.”
Lola screamed again, writhing on the stretcher. Hank’s attention snapped back to her, the concern in his eyes never once directed at me in all our years together.
“Go tend to your princess,” I said, turning away.
As I walked down the corridor, each step taking me further from Hank and the life I once had, I
Chapter 2
2:48 am G D
felt something I hadn’t expected–freedom.
Even though my body felt like it was still bleeding, my soul had finally stopped hemorrhaging.
I felt – free.
