I chose yoga with Dr. Steve over going for a jog in the park. The reasons were obvious. I didn’t want to get lost again, and two, the weather was unpredictable. When our session ended, I rolled up the mat, folded it, and placed it on the couch. My ponytail swinging behind my back, I went into the kitchen and brought out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

     Clara strutted around me, moving through my legs and occasionally bumping into me. I poured a glass of milk, sipped and carried it with me to the window. Opening it, I stared out into the Bergers’ porch. Bright light poured into the kitchen through the slats of the window blinds. I squinted. No sign of their Mazda. They must be on a trail in the park by now.

     Turning away, I closed the blinds and downed the milk, setting the glass on the counter. Yesterday’s moment with the Bergers rang in my mind. I was convinced Amy was being abused now, although she was trying hard to conceal it. Alec didn’t strike me as an abusive man, but I might have made a mistake with that judgment.

     Something about Amy quitting her job because it was hectic didn’t sit right with me. Every job turned out to be hectic at some point. I had had tough moments at the boutique on multiple occasions, especially during festivities, but would I quit because of that? Of course not. Amy’s reason was moot, which made me more convinced she didn’t quit because she wanted to. Maybe Alec forced her to, threatening her like how Tom had threatened to burn down my boutique.

     Was Amy helpless? Was she stuck in the marriage? The questions ricocheted in my mind, and I found myself trying to come up with answers but none popped up. In vain standing in the kitchen, I decided to leave well enough alone. If Amy was ready, she’d reach out for help. I didn’t want to meddle in their affairs when she hadn’t invited me.

     The telephone rang, jarring me out of my thoughts. My fingers trembled when the ringing continued and echoed in the house. My mind raced to Tom, but it was unlikely he’d call the farmhouse for so many reasons. Probably Grace. When she couldn’t reach my cell, she called the house. It must be urgent.

     I crossed the kitchen to the table by the rear counter, snatched the handset, and answered the call. My heartbeat slowed at the sound of Grace.

     “Hey, I’ve been trying to call your cell. What’s up?”

     “I turned it off. I didn’t want Tom tracking my location.”

     “Figured. Hope you’re having a great time.”

     “Not really, but I love the place.”

     She giggled. “I knew you would. I spoke with the lawyer handling the divorce.”

     “I didn’t think you’d get one so soon.”

     “The sooner, the better. I told her about your situation. She wants to have a word with you. I’ll send you her number. You’d have to turn on your phone.”

     I still couldn’t believe I wanted to go through with the divorce. Everything seemed to be happening in a whirlwind, but I knew this was the best decision I could’ve ever made. “Sure. Thanks, Grace.”

     “Don’t mention. See you later. Love.”

     “Love,” I murmured, then hung up.

     A short while later, I was speaking with the woman who’d be representing me with my divorce. She seemed to know a lot about me, I was certain Grace had had a thorough conversation with her. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat speaking to my lawyer. She was the first stranger who knew about my abuse. I couldn’t stop feeling naked.

     “I’ll be working on the divorce papers,” she said. “And I’ll take copies to Mr. Grant myself.”

     She knew about Tom too? Of course, she did. Although Grace told her about my marriage life with my well-being in mind, I felt a hint of a betrayal. I should have been the one to tell her about Tom, but I was sure Grace handled it with prudence.

     Grace never liked Tom. I could say she saw through him the moment she met him. Had love blinded me? She’d told me bluntly she disliked Tom and I shouldn’t get married to him. She wouldn’t give me a tangible reason—just said she had a feeling he wasn’t the right guy for me. Was I supposed to end a relationship with my husband-to-be because my younger sister said she had a strange feeling he wasn’t the right man? Not an easy question. I had ignored her, but now I wished I had listened to her. At least she didn’t chide me with I told you so when I opened up to her about my abuse. She listened, then pulled me into a hug and brushed my back.

     It was difficult to see your flaws from afar. It took another person to prompt you, but sometimes when you were prompted, you wished you weren’t. I didn’t think love blinded me when I fell in love with Tom. I just knew I made a mistake, one of the biggest of my life.

     The divorce sounded easy in my thoughts. My lawyer would work on the papers, send copies to Tom, and make sure he signed. The only problem was, that wouldn’t happen. Tom wouldn’t let me go easily. We’d have to fight hard before I would be free.

     “And if he refuses?” I asked.

     She said hastily, “We’d use another approach. Your sister told me about your—” She trailed away. She couldn’t finish.

     “Abuse,” I murmured.

     “We could use that in court if you can prove it.”

     “I have his text messages.”

     “That’s a great start, Elodie. Send them to me ASAP!”

     “I will. I think you should also know this.” I swallowed hard. Was I ready?

     “I’m listening,” she said, her voice anxious.

     “Tom cheated on me,” I said sheepishly.

     I never dreamt of this betrayal. Hadn’t I fulfilled my duties as a wife? Maybe I focused too much on my boutique and neglected Tom. He’d sought love elsewhere. But then I reminded myself he had been in a relationship with Anne for a year now and from the looks of things, Anne was prepared to tell me about it, which meant she couldn’t continue lying to me, or she wanted me to know Tom had found a new lover to make me leave him so she could replace me. Through our so many years of friendship, I never detected jealousy in her. Was Anne jealous of me? There was only one way to find out. I’d have to confront her.

     “That’s also good. We’d need evidence of his infidelity too.”

     “It will be difficult. He confessed to me, and I’m sure he would deny it in court if we decide to use it against him.”

     “You have a point. Let’s focus on the abuse angle and see where it gets us.”

     “Okay.”

     “We’ll keep in touch, Elodie. Rest assured, I’ll help you with your divorce.”

     “Thanks,” I said slowly and hung up.

     I sighed, then pulled back the ribbon supporting my hair. I shook my head and it came tumbling down my shoulders. Another sigh. Leaning forward, I rested my arms on the countertop. Everything’s going to be fine. I told myself, but I didn’t believe it. It wasn’t useless repeating it. It wasn’t going to subside my stress.

     My phone chimed. I should turn that off. Stretching a hand, I went for it and scanned the screen. New messages. All from James.

     My lips curled into a smile. Somehow, the stress vanished the moment I read the messages.

Hey, what’s up?
It’s today.
Are you ready?
I’m still thinking ’bout the venue.
Will text you later.
Dress nicely.

     With clumsy fingers, I started typing, the smile plastered on my face widening into a grin.

Not much, just finished exercising.
Very much aware.
Yes.
Sure.
OK.