Stormy Surrender - By Nicole Andrews Moore Page 0,43

was wearing a charm bracelet with a single charm. Yet, to Marti, this was already a prized possession, a symbol of hope for a better future. The one simple charm he had chosen was a shell. She fingered it happily as he drove them back to New Hope. “Thank you. I love it.” She looked out the window, enjoying the lights coming on now that the sun had officially set. “I can’t believe we drove to Myrtle Beach to walk the beach at sunset.” She leaned back and let out a soft blissful sigh.

“And to get fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

“Yes, fries,” she murmured, as she closed her eyes and rested once more.

Marti felt refreshed and rejuvenated when she woke up the next morning. She touched her left wrist and smiled when her finger tips touched the charm bracelet. Today, she would start working on the house in earnest. There was so much to do, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt invigorated and excited. She couldn’t imagine a single thing that would ruin her day.

She had showered and dressed. She had eaten and driven over to the house. She was just about to pull out her list and see what they were going to tackle first when her phone rang. It was Blaine. And she was more than a little surprised to hear from him after the way their last conversation ended.

“Yes,” she said in clipped tone.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said unapologetically.

“What? I don’t understand. What does that mean?” She could feel a panic rising in her that she hadn’t experienced before.

“My lawyer has advised me to change the bank accounts. Whatever money you have left, that’s the money you have until we finalize the divorce.”

It was silent on the other end, but for the rhythmic sound of him breathing. She marveled over it. He wasn’t even breathing hard. She had been a kept woman their entire marriage, unable to keep a job because everything was about him and for him, and now this. She refused to let him see how scared she was. It was more than that. She was angry, furious even. He was trying to hold her hostage with money. Though he hadn’t said that, it was in fact, implied. Behave and she would be taken care of. Toe the line and she would be fine. Buck and he would hurt her every way he could, and few ways were more effective than by threatening poverty.

“That’s fine,” she finally replied, making sure to keep her voice even, to act ambivalent, unaffected. “Well, the contractor is here, so I’ll let you go.” And without saying a proper goodbye, she hung up.

The weight of his words jarred her like a wrecking ball. “And the hits just keep coming,” she muttered as she walked in through the back door.

There were some tools scattered about the house. Clearly, New Hope was the kind of place that the crew didn’t have to worry about anything being stolen. That gave her some degree of comfort. And then she saw it. Over leaned against the door frame heading towards the hall was a sledge hammer.

Smiling, she walked over to it. If Blaine was here, she’d probably knock his block off. Instead…she hefted it. She took a few practice swings. She wanted to break something. There had to be something in this house that she could safely demo and work through her anger. And as she turned toward the sun streaming through the windows, there it was: the bathroom. She knew the plan was for a complete overhaul anyway. That was what she would do, starting now. She dragged the sledge hammer behind her.

The toilet had been removed. There was a cap covering the opening. The sink had been removed already and that god awful medicine cabinet with the mirrored front. She had imagined hitting that and shattering it into a million tiny pieces. In her mind, it was very satisfying. In reality it wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t much left in the room at all, except for the tile.

She glanced at the hammer, then the tile, shrugged, and started swinging. The tile made a lovely high pitched sound as it shattered. The shards flew about the room, ricocheting off the walls and door before landing on the floor. And because that first swing felt so good, she just kept swinging. Each times the sledge hammer connected with the tiles, she would think of what her marriage had been like. She would