My Husband Left Me Dying for Her. I Made Him Regret It novel · Chapter 20 of 32

Chapter 20: Snow

I shut the door on her and locked all three of the new locks.

Then I put my back against it.

My cheek was still hot.

Aaron didn't come to me. He stayed in the kitchen doorway and waited, the way he always waited, until I looked up.

"Are you all right?"

"She slaps like my grandmother."

"Is that good?"

"My grandmother was from Bari. It's not good."

He came then. He took my face in his hands and looked at the mark on my cheek, and kissed the edge of it, very lightly.

"She was right about one thing," I said.

"She was right about nothing."

"Make it worth it." I took the drive out of my bra. "I can't make anything worth it from this kitchen. I need your office. The real one. Not him."

He looked at the drive. He didn't reach for it.

"Not the ledger," I said. "Not yet. Eight wires. The Scarsdale ones. That's all you take."

"That's enough to end his career."

"Good. Take it over his head."

On Monday morning he put on his only tie and drove into Manhattan with eight printed pages in a folder.

He walked them past the deputy chief's floor to the top one.

He came home at six with nothing.

"She has them," he said. "Her assistant took the folder. Said she'd be in touch."

Nobody was in touch on Tuesday. Or Wednesday.

On Thursday he drove me to the clinic.

The doctor moved the wand under my belly and hummed.

"Well," she said. "Look at that."

"What?"

"Your placenta's moved up where it belongs. Bleed's long gone. The baby's measuring right on time." She wiped my stomach. "You're cleared."

"Cleared for what?"

"For anything you did before." She glanced at Aaron in the corner and back at me. "Anything at all."

Aaron got very interested in his phone.

I bit the inside of my cheek all the way to the car.

He didn't say a word until we were on 86th Street.

"Anything at all," he said to the windshield.

"She was very clear."

"She was very clear," he agreed.

Then he missed the turn onto my block, and we had to go around.

On Saturday it snowed.

It started in the afternoon, fat slow flakes over the elevated train, and by dark 79th Street was white and silent.

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