him say that bitch’s name in the first place.
“Now shut up,” he says, jamming a finger through the air in my general direction, “and pack your shit.”
I feel it again, sharp as a whip. I can’t stay here.
Travis has betrayed me time and time again, and if I’m honest with myself, I know I’ve thought about packing my own bag on more than one occasion. Everyone wants to live here, on the coast, in this lavish neighborhood, where it’s nice and quiet, the perfect place to raise a family.
But I don’t want to be in these glass walls anymore, on display for the world to see.
Now that I think about it, I don’t think I ever really did. Travis picked this house. One day out of the blue, he’d pulled up in the driveway, dropped the keys in my lap, and said it was ours. It’d been the surprise of a lifetime, and everyone had said I was the luckiest woman in the world to be gifted a home like this.
But it’s not mine. I’m simply one of Travis’s possessions in it, no more important than his piano, his bar, or his gun.
Maybe, just maybe, I deserve something better.
“What happens when we come back?” I ask as I fiddle with the zipper.
He turns in the bathroom doorway. “What do you mean?”
“Our problems are going to be waiting for us. The lack of trust, your constant need for control. Nothing is ever going to change, and I’m tired of it.”
Closing the distance between us, Travis strides up to me and cups my chin in his hands. The gesture should be tender and soft, but fury brews in his eyes, and it scares me to death. I shake, swallow down the fear welling up inside me, and meet his gaze.
“If I were you, Rachael,” he whispers, “I’d choose your next words wisely.”
A ragged breath escapes from my lungs as I shy away from his touch. “I think you and I should—”
“Careful,” he warns.
“I think we should spend some time apart.”
There, I said it. But I don’t feel free or relieved. I have the distinct sensation of jumping off a cliff and free-falling, my pulse skyrocketing as the ground beneath me closes in much too fast.
“You think I killed her.” His upper lip curls in disgust. “You do. I see it in your eyes. You think those cops are following me because they know something you don’t.”
“The only thing I know is what you tell me, and so far, you’ve told me nothing but lies. We’ve built this beautiful house on them, Travis, and the walls are cracking beneath the weight.” I clutch at my nightshirt and gasp for what little air is left in this room. “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stay up at night wondering about how many times you slept with Joanna behind my back, how many times you wished you were with her when you were next to me.” I’m steamrolling now, and there’s no coming back from this. “I can’t stop thinking about how many times you kissed me with the same mouth that kissed her, how many times you slept with her in the afternoon and me in the evening. I wish I were numb to all of this, Travis. But I—I can’t—it’s eating me away inside. I won’t live like this anymore, and I—”
“Shh, you don’t know what you’re saying.” He drags me against him, burying my head in his chest despite my resistance. “Stop, Rachael. Just stop. I hate seeing you this way. Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything.”
I break away and stifle a laugh. Because he still doesn’t get it. “How about something you’ve never given me before?”
“Name it.”
“Loyalty and honesty.”
I don’t look at him when I hitch my Louis Vuitton over my shoulder and strut out the bedroom door. I can’t. Because if I look at