The sound of the suitcase zipper cutting through the silence felt louder than it should have. Naomi Bennett stood in the middle of her kitchen—all gleaming marble countertops and designer pendant lights—and looked at the man she’d called her husband for eight years.
Donovan leaned against the island with his arms crossed, that insufferable smirk playing on his lips like he was watching a performance he’d already seen the ending to. He wore a gray suit that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent, his watch catching the light every time he moved his wrist. Everything about him screamed money, power, control.
“So you’re really doing this?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement. “You’re actually going to walk out?”
Naomi’s hands were steady as she placed her house keys on the counter. The metal clinked against the marble with a sound of absolute finality.
“Yes.”
He laughed—actually laughed, the sound echoing off the expensive surfaces.
“Go ahead then. Leave. I’ll give you a week without me. Maybe less.” He pushed off the counter and walked toward her, his confidence radiating like heat. “Where are you going to go, Naomi? What are you going to do? You haven’t worked in years. You’ve been living off my money in my house, driving my cars, wearing clothes I bought you.”
Naomi said nothing. She just pulled her phone from her purse and checked the time.
Eleven forty-seven.
In thirteen minutes, it would be a new day. A new beginning.
“You think you can make it out there alone?” Donovan continued, his voice taking on that particular tone of condescension she’d come to recognize so well. “You think anyone’s going to hire a woman who hasn’t practiced law in eight years? You think you can afford an apartment in this city on your own?”
Naomi looked at him—really looked at him—and saw everything clearly for the first time in years. She’d once thought he was handsome. Now she just saw the cruelty in his eyes, the arrogance in his stance, the casual contempt in every gesture. She saw the man who’d been sleeping with Simone Clark from his accounting department for the past three years. The man who’d taken Simone to expensive restaurants while Naomi waited at home. The man who’d given his mistress jewelry that Naomi’s own inheritance had helped pay for.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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