Now he laughed. Laughed in my face.
“No, sweetheart, it’s not,” he proclaimed once he was done. “My father plays golf with the chief. They go way back. Most of the force have mortgages with our bank. They know what would happen if they convicted an Edwards.” His eyes tracked over me. “Not that anyone would take you seriously anyway. Not with who your mother is.”
His tone sickened me. He’d never talked to me that way. Spoken to me like he truly thought I was trash.
“I’ll leave,” I choked out, realizing what he was saying was true. “I’ll take Violet.”
His eyes blazed with anger. “How will you leave?” he scoffed. “Both of the cars are in my name. Same with all of our bank accounts. You don’t have a fucking cent to your name.”
I blinked at the truth. He was right. Everything was in Preston’s name. It had made sense at the time. I’d trusted Preston to take care of it all. I had my car, I had the card in my purse that I used to buy whatever I wanted for the house, for Violet.
But none of it was mine.
The reality of that fact was suffocating.
Preston smiled cruelly.
My stomach curdled in repulsion.
“Yeah, you get it, babe,” he sneered. “You don’t have a high school education. No credit score. No family. Nowhere to go.” I held my breath as he leaned down to brush my cheek. “I do love you, babe. And I intend on keeping you as my wife for as long as I see fit. Our marriage will be a happy one.”
He stepped back and adjusted his tie. “You just need to learn how to stay in line.” He winked at his reflection. “You need to get up. Violet needs to be dressed. And you need to clean up from last night. I’ll be home early. I have a sick wife to look after.” He leaned in to kiss me on the cheek before he walked out.
I heard him kissing Vi goodbye, and then the door closed.
My breath caught as I realized I wasn’t in that house. That I was standing in the middle of a lovely, Spanish inspired cottage in New Mexico with the man I loved in front of me, damn near shaking from fury.
I’d been talking for a long time. It took a long time to split yourself apart, separate all the ugly pieces and shine light on them, didn’t it?
But I’d expected Swiss to interject at some point. Maybe to jump in and save me so I didn’t have to keep going. But he hadn’t spoken. Not a peep. Not to save me from this.
“It was easy for him,” I whispered. “Exceptionally so. I barely put up a fight. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. And I had a nice life. What could I complain about? He didn’t hit me often. Often enough that I walked on eggshells around him. Never anywhere visible after that first day. And he never, ever touched Violet. If he had even shown an inkling of that violence toward my daughter, I would’ve gone. I would’ve fought to the death for her.”
I meant that too. Every word. For the first couple of years, I’d watched him like a hawk. Watched for the change in his eyes if Violet started crying about something, accidently spilled something. But there was no sign of his temper. He would soothe her, clean up whatever mess and be patient with his princess.
“He was a wonderful father,” I said, looking down at my feet. I felt ashamed, saying anything good about Preston in front of him. “A wonderful husband, to the rest of the world. To the public, we seemed perfect.” I shook my head. “It was easy. So fucking easy for him to break me down. Trap me. I didn’t try to leave once. Not once. Didn’t make plans. Didn’t fight back. No. I submitted to him 100 percent. I gave in. Without any kind of fight.”
Once, only once, I thought about leaving.
Violet was twelve. She wasn’t showing any signs of growing into a teenager. She loved cuddles with her parents, adored horses and still slept with her stuffed animals. She was perfect and impossibly pure. She was my whole world.
I had a few broken ribs. Not diagnosed by a doctor, but I’d come to know my body. And by then, I’d learned to hide the pain well.
Staring at my daughter doing her homework at the kitchen table, her dark brows knitted into a frown as she worked on a math problem, I envisioned her growing up. Her getting her first boyfriend, falling in love. Then I thought of a man putting his hands on her. And her staying because she might’ve somehow known that her mother stayed, even though Preston was meticulous about making sure she never saw that side of him.
I thought of my baby being trapped like I was.
And that rage from that first morning after awoke in me once more.
For my daughter.
Her dark head suddenly snapped up. “Daddy!” she cried, running toward Preston.
I hadn’t heard him come in.
He took Violet into his arms, but his cold eyes were fixed on me.
“Vi Vi, you doing your homework?” he asked in a voice that didn’t match the look he’d given me, nodding to the table.