Viggo completely lost control. He never imagined that I, the woman who had always swallowed everything, would raise a hand against him.
He lunged forward, but Carmilla grabbed him tightly.
“Viggo, don’t,” she cried, shaking her head. “Forget it. I’m fine.”
That sentence snapped him back to reality.
He hadn’t gotten all my money yet. This wasn’t the time to lose his head.
He took a deep breath. His face was still ugly, but the pretense of tenderness was gone.
“Let’s go.”
He bent down, lifted Carmilla into his arms, and turned to leave.
Before walking out, he tossed over his shoulder,
“Mariah, I’m taking Cruella to stay with my parents for a few days. When you finally realize you were wrong, then I’ll come home.”
He thought it was a killing blow.
He thought I’d do what I always did. Llower my head, apologize, cry, beg him to come back.
But I never would again.
I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath.
Then I booked the earliest flight out.
All that packing over the past few days, sorting through my belongings, closing out the company, was just me being reluctant to leave a place I’d lived in for years. A home I hadn’t fully let go of.