Straightening her back that felt close to breaking,Clara refused to look again at the pair embracing on the sofa.Barefoot,she stepped over the cold tiles and the shards of broken porcelain,one step at a time,toward the open door.
Behind her came Vanessa’s triumphant laugh and Adrian’s low murmur of appeasement—sounds that crushed the last fragments of Clara’s love and warmth into dust.
She had nothing left.
And now she was certain—she would not regret it.
In six days,she would be free of this faithless man forever!
In the small hours of the morning,Clara walked barefoot,wearing nothing but her underwear,along the icy streets of early autumn.
The streetlights stretched her shadow long;passing headlights swept over her pale,vacant face and bare skin,drawing a few ambiguous whistles and prying glances.
She didn’t notice.She only felt numb—desperate to escape.
At last she saw a small,reasonably clean-looking motel.It felt like a lifeline.Staggering,she stepped inside.
Behind the counter,a middle-aged woman dozed.Startled awake,she looked Clara up and down,suspicion flickering in her eyes.
“One room,”Clara rasped.Her voice was hoarse,almost soundless.