Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I need to get out of here. This is my chance. I sure as hell don’t want to look at Enzo, not if he’s been with somebody else. Even if it wasn’t her in particular, what else would he be doing right now? At this time of night? I back away from the top of the stairs as silently as possible, then just as silently close the bedroom door before turning on the lights and pulling my tote bag out from under the bed.
I shouldn’t be crying. It must be the hormones. Enzo does not deserve my tears; I’ve known that all along. So why can’t I stop myself from weeping as I throw things into the bag?
Especially the bracelets I take from the top drawer in my dresser, under my socks. I asked to look at them the other day, and he never took them back which just happened to work out in my favor. I don’t have anywhere else to put them—there’s no safe or anything that I’m aware of, and I don’t even have a jewelry box. I don’t have anything really, nothing to make this room or this house my own. I had to put them somewhere. I’m surprised Enzo even let me keep hold of them rather than holding on to them himself.
I wrap the box in layers of clothing until it’s cocooned and very carefully tuck it into the bag before stacking more clothes, then toiletries on top. It’s not lost on me that I’m carrying many thousands of dollars by the time I zip up the bag, and it’s a little nerve-wracking. Those bracelets alone could probably have put me through school, and then some. I wouldn’t have had to worry about anything. I could sell them now, I guess, and have enough money to live off while I think about what to do next.
He’s never going to let you go. Are you crazy? What do you think you’re going to do once you’re out of this house? I don’t know the answer to that, and I’m sure he’s not going to let this go. But damn him, I’m not going to sit around here and wait with my heart in my throat all the time. And I’m not going to let him smirk in my face when I ask where he was tonight. I’m not going to let him do that to me. I’ve already let him do too much as it is.
I let him make me fall in love, for starters. And I hate him for it almost as much as I hate myself.
With my tote bag in one hand and my backpack over the other shoulder, I creep out into the hallway again. It’s going on two-thirty now, and what was soft snoring at first has become considerably louder. I have to wonder if everybody in the house is asleep, or at least halfway there, because why wouldn’t they go wake him up?
Either way, that works for me. I check my phone to make sure there are cars in the area—it’s not a surprise that there are since the bars are still serving for another couple of hours. I’m sure plenty of people need a ride at this time of night.
Where am I going to go? I’m not sure. That’s the one thing I haven’t figured out by the time I’m tiptoeing down the stairs, holding my breath, and watching the guard for any signs of movement. The only thing that moves is his chest as he snores. Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, I look around, through to the kitchen, just in case somebody’s walking around in there. It’s just as dark and quiet as everywhere else in the house.
I feel like I’m right back in the beginning, trying to sneak out while Enzo was asleep on the couch. This time, I’m fully dressed, and I’m not practically empty-handed like I was before. But I’m just as scared—even more scared than before because this isn’t just about me. I have the baby to think about, too. I need to believe this is for their sake just as much as it is mine.
It’s the only thing that keeps me going as I open the door slowly, making sure there’s nobody out front. There isn’t; the area is free and clear. Maybe somebody was supposed to be out here but went inside. It doesn’t matter. I hustle down the driveway before requesting an Uber, then walk through the development and out to the main road to wait for them to pick me up.
I’ll figure something out. For now, it’s enough to know I won’t have to face him tonight. I couldn’t do it without breaking down.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “We’re going to be okay.” Even if I don’t know how.