Page 6 of Dream Chaser

Nothing he could say would make me change my mind.

CHAPTER TWO

Nova

July

One glance at my blue dress on the chair the following morning made my stomach twist. It all came rushing back—the disastrous lunch, the gift, and the awful gathering with Preston’s friends.

I sat up on the bed in the guest room, palms pressed to my throbbing temples.

I didn’t want to face Preston, but I didn’t have a choice.

He sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone. His head snapped up when I approached. “About time you woke up. I’m hungry.”

A few days ago, I would’ve been up before him so his hot breakfast was waiting when he came downstairs.

A few days ago, I would’ve let his comments about bacon that wasn’t crispy enough or eggs that were too runny slide.

I would’ve done what I was supposed to do—take care of my husband because I was privileged. Other women had to work. According to Preston, I got to stay home doing nothing.

Nothing was the tidy house where everything had its place.

Nothing was a closet full of ironed shirts.

Nothing was three hot meals a day, and the dishes better be different.

Nothing was the stocked fridge, the mowed lawn, or the ache in my back that nothing short of daily physical therapy could fix.

“You’ve got hands,” I said, heading for the coffee maker. “You could’ve fixed yourself a meal.”

He pushed his chair back and rose, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I see. You’re still acting like a brat. That’s an interesting way to thank me for everything I do for you. Including me forgetting about your drunken threats.”

I hadn’t been drunk, and I meant every word. Our marriage had been dead for a while. Maybe it had never been healthy to begin with. Either way, I had nothing left to revive it. Not after my husband called me a cheap whore.

“Thank you, Preston.” I swallowed. “But I won’t cook for you anymore.”

“Then I won’t give you money. Let’s see how long you can do without it.” He smirked, walking past me toward the door.

“Fine! Say hi to Donna,” I yelled to his back.

The front door slammed shut. My eyes burned, but I refused to cry as I dragged myself to the shower.

A few minutes later, I was staring at soap bubbles swirling around the drain, shivering despite the scorching water.

Preston would be back from Donna’s soon. He’d sit at the kitchen table, demand lunch, and tell me what his mother thought about our problems. Because Donna was wise. I was hysterical and immature.

Sobs rocked my body. I couldn’t do this.

Couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t live like this.

I switched off the water and hastily dried myself with a towel. In my bedroom, I yanked my favorite clothes from their hangers and stuffed them into a duffle with my makeup and toiletries. The only other things I packed were my old laptop and camera. I hadn’t used them in forever, but once I was out that door, I wasn’t coming back, and I refused to leave anything I treasured behind.

As I slid behind the wheel of my car, I called my mother.

She answered after the first ring. “Nova.”

“Hi, Mom.”