by Rena Olsen
“Oh, thank God,” she said, then covered the mouthpiece to say something to whoever else was with her. “Are you okay?” she asked, speaking to me again.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” I said. “I had an . . . accident last week. My husband has been home taking care of me and this is the first time he’s left me alone since then.”
“What happened?”
I relayed the series of events. I had nothing to hide from her, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Tim’s accident was related to mine. “Is Tim okay?”
“In a manner of speaking,” she said. “He’s lucky, really, but he broke one of his legs and a few ribs, and had some internal bleeding. I can’t even remember all the details. I’m just grateful he’s awake and he’ll be fine.” She took the phone away from her ear again to speak to someone in the background. Tim, I now assumed. “He wants to talk to you.”
Before I could agree, Tim’s voice came over the line. “Julia? I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Same,” I said. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
He didn’t ask why I was sorry. He knew as well as I did that Bryce was somehow at fault, or else it was an awfully big coincidence. “You had nothing to do with it, Julia. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I dragged you into my awful world.”
He laughed. “I kicked my way in.” I could hear Mary agreeing in the background. “Mary says that I don’t know when to keep my nose to myself, but I think she loves that about me.”
“I bet she doesn’t love that about you right now, cooped up in that hospital bed.”
“Hey,” he said. “I needed a break. I just go to extremes to get the breaks I need.”
“If you say so.”
“Julia.” Tim’s tone grew serious. “You have to get out of there. You need to go someplace far away. Someplace where he can’t find you. The more desperate he gets to keep you, the more scared I am that he’s going to do something extreme.”
I’d been thinking along the same lines. I knew he was right, but leaving was almost harder than staying. Where would I go? I couldn’t put my parents at risk. I’d have to start over. No money, no friends . . . I’d have to create a new identity, and I didn’t know where to even start.
“If you won’t leave for you,” Tim said, “leave for that baby girl. She deserves better than to be born into fear.”
A sense of peace overtook me at his words, and I knew then that he was right. I needed to leave. “Okay,” I said. “By the end of the week I’ll be out. I’ll have to wait until he leaves me without a babysitter, but I think I can act broken enough that he’ll buy it. That’s what he wants to see.”
As if on cue, Nancy’s car pulled into the driveway. I hadn’t heard the gate, but it was difficult to hear from up here. “I have to go,” I said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
I had barely stowed the phone and climbed back into bed before I heard Nancy’s footsteps on the stairs. She opened the door quietly and I feigned sleep. She walked into the room and came to stand in front of me, running a hand down my cheek before making her way around the room, opening and closing drawers quietly. She was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. She went into the bathroom and I heard rustling, but it didn’t sound like she found my hiding spot. After a few minutes of snooping, she left. I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, already trying to choreograph my exit.
* * *
—
I knew I couldn’t take much, and there wasn’t much I wanted. A change of clothes and a few toiletries. I packed in my mind every day, switching items around, trying to figure out the most economical way to fit things into a bag. I couldn’t very well roll a suitcase down the street, so I would use a backpack. I had nothing left from my life before Bryce. He’d gotten rid of it all. And I wanted nothing to remember this life by, only what I absolutely needed before I could get back on my feet. I would have no money and no possessions, but I would be free.
It was Friday before I had my opportunity. I’d done my best impression of a broken woman all week, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I heard Bryce on the phone with Nancy, telling her to stay home and get stuff done. He brought me a tray a little while later. “This can’t last much longer, Julia,” he said. “But here’s something for lunch. Just a sandwich. I’ll be back around dinnertime. Tomorrow we get dressed, okay?”
I rolled my head to face him and stretched my mouth into a small smile. “I’ll try,” I said. “If you think it’s best.”
“I do,” he said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “You need to get moving and keep the baby healthy.”
“I know.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Bryce said, sitting on the edge of the bed. All I wanted him to do was leave. “Maybe if we picked a name for the baby, it would help energize you. You’re not alone here, after all. She’s here to keep you company.”
“That’s true,” I said, struggling into a sitting position. “We could talk about names.”
“I was thinking we could name her after Nancy,” Bryce said. “She’s been such a huge help to you. It would certainly honor her.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, yes, that would be nice. We can definitely add it to the list.”
He frowned. “I really think it would be nice if we could tell her this weekend that we’re naming the baby after her. I’d hoped you wouldn’t fight me on it.”
“No, I’m not fighting you at all, Bryce,” I said, widening my eyes. “Nancy is the perfect name.”
He smiled, satisfied. “She’ll be so excited.”
I nodded and closed my eyes as he leaned in to kiss me again.
“Last day of lazing around, okay?” Bryce warned, as if I had just been on a vacation instead of recovering from his assault.
“Promise,” I said, and I actually meant it.
As soon as he left the house, I crept to the front window and watched him drive to the gate. I opened the window just a little to make sure I heard the gate open and close, and then rushed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. It was time.
I retrieved Tim’s phone and called them to tell them I was leaving. I’d check in again when I was safe. I tossed the phone on the bed as I surveyed my closet. My other phone was in the bathroom, but I knew I wouldn’t be bringing that one along.
Heavy footfalls on the steps were the first sign that I’d been discovered. I froze, trying to decide how to play it. There wasn’t time to shove everything back in the closet, and if he already suspected that I was up to something, he’d find the half-packed bag anyway. So instead of hiding or running, I continued to fold clothes and place them in my backpack, more deliberate than frantic. There was no reason to hurry now that he was here.
I should have expected it. He knew everything. My every move, my every thought. He knew what I was going to do before I did. I’m not sure what gave it away. Maybe he really did have a connection with a higher power who ratted me out. Maybe he’d bugged the house. Either way, he came storming into the bedroom, ready for a fight.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, chest heaving in agitation.
There was no point in denial. We were past playing games with each other. “I’m leaving,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could.
He stilled. “You’re not leaving.”
I sighed and continued packing, ignoring him as he stalked closer. In my heart, I’d known it would come to this. That’s why I hadn’t allowed Mary to come and get me. Why I hadn’t contacted anyone else, involved anyone else. There was no way he would let me leave. Not if he had any control over it. It would disrupt his plan. Make him look bad. He grabbed the shirt I was folding and whipped it across the room.
“You. Are. Not. Leaving,” he said, and I appreciated how he controlled the rage simmering beneath his measured words. “Pick up the room and get yourself cleaned up. I�
�m going to drop you off at the church for the day. We’ll discuss this later.” His voice held a menacing promise. I knew what later would bring. And I refused to cower in a ball of nerves for the entire day waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“We can discuss it now,” I said, picking up another shirt. “I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me. I’ll send you the divorce papers when I’m settled.” I dropped the shirt into the bag and reached to remove my wedding ring.
His hand shot out, grasping my wrist to the point of pain, preventing me from removing the ring. I gasped, struggling against his hold. “You belong to me,” he hissed. “You will stay until I tell you to go, which will never happen. We will stay married. You will give birth to our child. And everyone around us will know how happy we are.”
I wrenched my hand away, rubbing the bruised skin. I knew this was only the beginning. He could have held on to me if he’d wanted to, but he had something more planned. Something worse. Barely taking his eyes from me, he reached into his pocket and dialed his phone.
“Yes, hello, I’m not going to be able to come into the office today,” he said, then paused to listen. “Yes, Julia’s just not feeling great still. I’ll check in later in case anything comes up.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the bed, then did a double take as he spotted the other phone. He picked it up. “Where did this come from?”
I sent up a prayer of thanks that he couldn’t unlock it, and wouldn’t be able to connect it with Tim and Mary. Unless they called. My anxiety spiked.
“Unlock it,” he said, holding it out to me. “Let’s see what you’ve been up to.”
Taking the phone with shaking hands, I said a silent apology before taking it and breaking it in two. It was good it was an old-style flip phone, as it was easily ripped in half. “It was just something I picked up,” I said. “Not worth anything to you.”
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that. But information can be retrieved. Don’t worry.”
“Just let me go,” I pleaded, hating the taste of begging on my tongue, a hint of hysteria creeping into my voice despite my attempts to remain calm. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
Bryce smiled that chilling smile, and I couldn’t believe I used to find him charming. “Oh, but it does,” he said. “How else will you learn?”
Darting around him, I raced for the door. He intercepted me, backing me toward the antique desk in the corner of the room. “Please,” I whispered as I bumped into the desk behind me, and my fingers grappled across the surface, searching only moments before wrapping around their target.
He came to stand toe to toe with me, raising his hand and caressing my cheek. Even still, after all of this, I had to resist the urge to lean into his touch, to draw strength. But his strength was cruelty, not comfort, and as he wound up his other hand to deliver the first blow, I turned my head and sank my teeth deep into the soft flesh of his palm.
Yowling, he took a step back and I ducked under his arm, running into the bathroom, where I had left the other phone, trying to slam the door behind me. He was too quick, and shoved a foot in before I could get the door shut.
“That was a big mistake,” he said, no longer concealing the anger in his voice. He forced the door open and lunged for me at the same time as I brought my arm forward to stop him. A surprised look crossed his face, and he backed away, gazing in confusion at the bone handle of the letter opener now protruding from his chest. He held out his arms toward me, but stumbled back, tripping over the edge of the tub and falling in.
Chest still moving up and down, Bryce watched me, and I him. I knew in that moment, saw in his eyes, that it was never going to stop. Even if I got away, he would come after me. Until he caught me. Until I was once again under his control. I would never be free. Calmly, I stepped over to the tub and turned on the water. He began to make weak flailing motions as the water rose up over his face. I climbed in beside him, using my legs to hold him under. And I watched as the light went out from those crystal-blue eyes, the ones that hid the demon that surely lived inside of him.
“Till death do us part,” I whispered.
The doorbell peals frantically, as if the person on the other side of the door is just holding their finger on the button. She doesn’t move. There is a spare key under the flower pot. Not an original spot. He never knew she kept one there. If he had found out, it would have been good for at least two bruises. Maybe more.
Minutes later, footsteps pound on the stairs, and a voice calls out for her. Still, she remains quiet. Everything is about to change. She takes a deep breath as the footsteps move closer.
When her sister enters the bathroom, she gasps. “What have you done?”
Epilogue
EVER AFTER
Chapter 34
The police had arrived, and the paramedics. Kate hadn’t left my side since she came into the bathroom. I wore different clothes, my old soaking-wet set stained with blood and taken for evidence. My sister squeezed my hand, and I found the strength I craved, the strength I looked for in all the wrong places. If only I had known then.
They wheeled the body out, covered by a sheet, but with a weird tent where the letter opener raised the fabric. One perfectly manicured hand peeked from under the sheet, harmless now. I rubbed my belly, feeling small flutters of movement within. A paramedic crouched in front of me.
“We need to take you to the hospital,” he said, his voice gentle. “Your sister can come along in the ambulance.”
I nodded, not letting go of Kate’s hand even as they loaded me onto a gurney and rolled it out of the house. I knew I’d never return. There was nothing here I wanted. I sandwiched my sister’s hand between both of mine. Everything I needed was right here. And I was free.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book doesn’t happen in a vacuum. This book especially has been a labor of love and a community effort.
To my indomitable agent, Sharon Pelletier: I couldn’t ask for a better partner in this adventure. Or a better source of GIFs sent at just the right moment. I hope you know you’re stuck with me now.
To Sara Minnich and the entire Putnam team: you continually make something I thought was pretty great even better. Your advice and experience have been invaluable, and have made this publishing ride as smooth as possible. Sara, you are my word Yoda, and I’m so grateful for the work you’ve done on these books.
To my cousin, Dana Pryor, who several years ago gave me a scene—a woman in a bathtub—and let me run with it. That scene became a short story, and that short story grew into this book. Thank you for being my muse, Dana, and one of my best friends.
To my parents: each time I tell you I’m starting a new book, I’m sure you brace yourselves. Thank you for sticking with me through the highs and the lows, and for believing in me all the way. And to the rest of my family, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, who tell everyone they meet that they should read my books: thanks for being the best street team there ever was.
To my friends in the real world and my imaginary social media friends and those who have become both: thanks for the continual cheerleading and support. I wouldn’t be where I am without you guys. You complete me.
I am blessed to work at an agency that supports this “second job” of mine and is generous with their time and support. I can’t imagine a better place to work than Orchard Place.
And, finally, I thank God for all the opportunities I’ve been blessed with and the stories I have to tell. Truly none of this is possible without Him.
About the Author
Rena Olsen is the author of The Girl Before, a Booklist top mystery debut of 2016. Olsen grew up moving around every few years, following her minister father from church to church, and her exposure to so many different people and environments sparked an interest in human nature. She earned a bachelor's degree in psychology and a master's in marriage and family therap
y. A licensed therapist, she works in Des Moines, Iowa.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.