“Robert, you’re home early,” she said, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on the weather.
The man stammered an apology and fled, leaving a gaping silence.
“How long?” I growled, the word heavy with a cold fury.
She just shrugged. “You’re never around. I have needs. Besides, the girls are fine.”
The casual cruelty of her words was a slap to the face. “You put them out in this storm? In the rain, just so you could do this?”
“They’re fine,” she repeated, her voice dripping with contempt. “A little rain won’t hurt them. They know how to stay out of the way.”
Something inside me snapped. The woman I thought I knew was a stranger, a monster who would put my children at risk for her own selfish desires.
“This is over, Laura,” I said, my voice shaking with a quiet finality. “Get your things and get out. You will not hurt my daughters again.”
Her mask of indifference cracked, revealing a flash of something dark and manipulative. “You might want to think about that,” she warned, her voice a low hiss. “I know things about this family. Things that could make a messy divorce even messier.”