He looked to Rita, as if expecting her to rescue the situation. She couldn’t. Without my income, neither of them had the control they’d imagined all day.

Gordon picked up two suitcases. Rita took the third. That evening they left, and checked into an inexpensive motel several miles away.

The front door closed behind them. For the first time in years, my house was truly quiet.

Chapter 7 — What Happened After the Door Closed

For several minutes I stayed on the sofa. I’d imagined that moment countless times while working with my attorney — sometimes picturing myself victorious, other times breaking down in tears.

The truth was quieter than either. I was exhausted. I was scared. And beneath both was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Relief.

I walked through the living room, locked the door, changed the alarm code, checked every window, and left Gordon’s copy of the legal notice in the entryway exactly where my attorney had instructed.