Chapter 1 - THE COFFEE
Arthur threw the coffee before Naomi understood he had picked up the mug.
One moment she was sitting at the breakfast table in their Westport kitchen, staring at Brooke across a plate of untouched eggs.
The next, hot coffee struck the left side of Naomi’s face.
She screamed.
Liquid ran through her blonde hair, across her cheek and neck, and down the pale sage blouse she had buttoned less than twenty minutes earlier.
Her chair scraped backward.
The ceramic mug hit the table and rolled against a plate.
Arthur stood over her in a navy suit, breathing hard.
“Give her your card.”
Brooke did not stand.
She did not reach for a towel.
She calmly lifted her orange juice.
That was the part Naomi would remember later.
Not Arthur’s face.
Brooke’s.
Smug.
Almost bored.
As though a woman having hot coffee thrown across her face was simply the predictable consequence of making breakfast difficult.
Naomi pressed her palm against her burning cheek.
“Arthur—”
He stepped closer.
“I’m done asking.”
Brooke crossed one leg over the other.
“It’s a card, Naomi. I’m not stealing your kidney.”
Naomi looked at her.
“It’s linked to my personal account.”
“Which has more than enough.”
That sentence made Naomi’s fear briefly disappear.
She had never told Brooke what was in that account.
Arthur had.
He grabbed Naomi’s wrist and yanked her halfway out of the chair.
“Obey me or leave.”
Her knees struck the underside of the table.
The chair legs scraped again.
Then something inside Naomi went cold.
She stopped pulling.
Arthur mistook that for surrender.
His grip loosened slightly.
Naomi ripped her wrist free, knocked his hand aside, and drove both palms into his chest.
Arthur stumbled backward one step.
Brooke’s glass stopped halfway to her mouth.
Naomi tore off her wedding ring.
“Then I’m leaving.”
She dropped the ring onto the coffee-soaked table.
Arthur’s face changed.
Not remorse.
Anger.
“You’re being dramatic.”
Naomi took out her phone.
There was already an unread message from attorney Julia Brenner.
I reviewed the deed and the lender letter. Call me before you confront him.
Too late.
Naomi turned the screen slightly.
Arthur saw Julia’s name.
His expression changed again.
“What did you do?”
Naomi opened the handbag hanging on the back of her chair.
Inside was a navy document folder.
On top:
42 Bayberry Lane — Deed / Separate Property Acknowledgment.
Beneath it sat two house keys.
Arthur stared.
He knew those documents.
He had signed one of them three years earlier.
Naomi picked up the bag.
Brooke finally stood.
“Where are you going?”
Naomi looked at Arthur.
“Hospital.”
His arrogance faltered.
For the first time since he threw the coffee, he seemed to understand that Naomi was not walking out because he had ordered her to.
She was walking out because she had made a decision.
May you like
And despite all the times Arthur called Bayberry Lane his house, the folder in Naomi’s bag meant one thing.
When the marriage ended, Naomi was not the spouse who had nowhere else to go.
