That job was perfect for her. She looked amazingly young and fit until the day she died. When she retired from teaching just two years before the accident, she kept her job in cosmetics. She had a discount at the department store, wore her own makeup like a pro, dressed beautifully in casual chic clothes, even taught her granddaughters how to apply their makeup so they wouldn’t look cheap or inexperienced. Beth had never cared that much but Lauren had always made good use of her makeup lessons, as did Lacey.

Lauren remembered having rich fantasies about how her life would be different from Honey’s when she was grown up. She would have an easier life and there would be luxuries now and then. And travel. And good clothes and a cleaning lady and a nice car.

She laughed softly. “And didn’t I just manage to get all that. And how exactly was it better?”

Dressed in jeans and a comfy chambray shirt, she opened the bedroom door. There sat Cassidy alone on the couch, texting or writing emails on her phone.

“I thought it was pretty quiet,” Lauren said. “My other daughter and her flowers are gone?”

Cassie put her phone aside. “Yes, but she didn’t go quietly. I made her cry.”

“Oh Cassie, why?”

“Because she’s selfish and spoiled and never thinks of anyone but herself.”

Lauren sighed. “That’s pretty normal in a young woman her age. She’ll grow out of it. Hopefully.”

“I don’t care whether she does or not,” Cassie said. “I decided a long time ago that I was just too unforgiving and everyone else in my family had more tolerance for Daddy than I did, but now what I realize is we all let this happen, let him build up momentum until he went too far. I’m done with him.”

Lauren was saddened by the fact that that made her feel good. She hadn’t planned to throw him under the bus to his daughters, even if he deserved it. “So, you’re not feeling forgiving?”

“Oh, maybe I’ll forgive him eventually, if he asks. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be spending time with him. Wouldn’t you say he’s crossed the line now? He’s a selfish and dangerous bastard. Don’t you dare go near him. I’m just terrified to leave you here alone.”

“I’ll be okay now. I outed him. I have friends and family here.”

“I’m terrified you’ll cave-in and go back to him!”

“Oh no, Cassie, no. I have my lawyer working on a restraining order. In fact, she said I’d have it today.”

“That’s a relief. For a nickel I’d kidnap you and take you back to Boston where I can watch over you and be sure Daddy hasn’t somehow manipulated you into thinking you can’t leave him!”

Lauren attempted a smile, but she was sure it was hideous. “And here I was worried that you were too timid to practice law.”

“I’m not timid, I’m quiet. You should watch the quiet ones,” she said.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” she said, thinking of Beau. “And how are things in Boston? Now that you’re sharing your flat.”

“You know one of the main reasons I love Jeremy?” Cassie asked earnestly. “He’s nothing like Daddy. He’s a good man who would never disrespect me. He would never lay a hand on another human being except to defend himself. He doesn’t even verbally spar with me. He’s honest, brilliant, tender and strong. I will have children with him, Mama. And he will be the best father in the world.”

Lauren nearly grabbed that cut lip in her teeth as she finished Cassie’s description in her head. They won’t have to listen to their father belittle and yell at their mother. Our children won’t see their father trip their mother, then lie about it. “Cassie, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I know there were times...”

“Stop,” she said, placing a hand on Lauren’s arm. “Lacey was right. Don’t tell her I said that, okay? But she’s right, a lot of our friends are from divorced homes and some of them have really shitty family situations. I managed to weed through and find some stable people to hang with, Jeremy being one. I knew you were putting up with more than you should. But honestly? I thought you’d put up with that forever.” She got tears in her eyes. “I wish he’d gotten better. I so wish he’d gotten better.”

But Lauren asked herself, Could I have loved him if he’d gotten better? I could have stayed, but could I have ever loved him again? Because abuse kills love. And the real tragedy was—that wasn’t always the case. Some women, bruised and bloody and fearing for their children’s lives, will say, But I love him. Just as Lauren had oh so many years ago.

It was not yet six when Beth arrived. She took one look at Lauren and said, “Oh baby Jesus!” Then she pulled Lauren into her arms. “If Honey were alive, she’d kill him!”

“It looks worse than it is,” Lauren said.

“I doubt it,” Beth said. Then she hugged Cassie. “You came to your mother. You’re a good daughter.”

Beth examined Lauren’s face more closely. “That’s it,” she said. “I’m going to have to kill him and leave my sons motherless while I rot in prison!” She sighed and said, “I brought wine. Not enough, that’s for sure.”

“Actually, I happen to have wine, too,” Lauren said. “But you’re driving.”

“There are ways around that,” Beth said. “I’ll call Chip. Or Uber my way home.” Then she smiled. “Are you taking any drugs?” she asked Lauren.

“No, I’m fine. I’m pretty tired now, if you want the truth. It’s been quite a day. Lots of surprise visits. First Lacey. Then a priest I know. Then the guy who drove me home from the ER brought me a bagful of soft food. Then Cassie. Then Lacey again, with flowers from her father. As you can imagine, it’s emotionally exhausting...”

Beth and Cassie were frozen in place, speechless. Quiet enveloped them for a good minute, which seemed like forever. Lauren could read their minds. Priest? Guy? Flowers?

Beth cleared her throat. “You have that wine open yet?”

* * *

It was the best evening in forever. That made no sense at all and yet absolute sense. It was rare for Lauren to have this kind of evening with her sister and daughter and absolutely unheard of that her barriers were down and she was completely frank about her husband. She kept thinking, this is not Brad’s house. She could say whatever she wanted to say. As soon as the shock and horror passed, they seemed to relax. They all felt it. This is it; this nightmare will finally be over.

Having her sister and her daughter together in her house with not a single thought toward needing to get home or expecting her husband to come home and disrupt the gathering, this was perfect. They had a glass of wine and talked honestly about what had happened. Then Cassie called for Chinese takeout—egg drop soup and mild lo mein for Lauren, spicy shrimp and garlic pork and egg rolls for those without stitches in their lips.

* * *

Beau leaned back on his sofa, feet on the coffee table. After their hamburgers, Drew had gone out to meet some of his friends at a driving range, sharpening his skills to eventually whip Beau and Tim on the golf course. Drew had to be up by four for work but he was eighteen—he didn’t need much sleep. There was still plenty of daylight. Beau vaguely remembered having that edge of youth. He flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch with a ball in it. Anything would do.

He heard the sound of a key in the lock at the front door. Drew was back already? He’d only been gone about two hours. He sat up. But the door didn’t open. Then there came a pounding and he felt a sick feeling grow in his gut.

“Let me in!” Pamela shouted from the other side of the door.

He took a deep breath. He sighed. He lumbered up off the couch. He slowly opened the door. “It would be better if you called ahead,” he said. “Is there something you need?”

There was a grim set to her mouth but, oh, Pamela was so beautiful. She was constructed to be, of course. She wore her streaked, honey-colored hair long. She bought a chin years ago, for starters. Then boobs. Lipo. Tummy tuck. Botox. Her lips were a little puffier—collagen injections, he had learned. Her nails were a classy length and she had an awful lot of eyelashes. She was tanned and buff. Pamela worked very hard on that face and body.

Beau thought she did so because she had a troubled soul. He thought she’d been much prettier before adding and subtracting so much.

“I need my house back,” she said.

“Well, unfortunately, it’s not your house.”

“You always said it was our house and I lived in it for thirteen years, so move over, darling.”

He blocked the way. “It will be part of the community property, I understand that, even though it was my house for six years before we met and it’s still in my name. And I’m sorry, but since our divorce is pending, since you’ve been served divorce papers, we can’t live together. It just wouldn’t work. And on advice of counsel, I’m not leaving.”

She looked shocked. “You never put the house in my name, too?”

“At first I just didn’t because it made no difference—neither of us would have singular properties. It’s a 50/50 state and that’s the way it is because there’s no prenup. But I brought this house to the marriage and you left,” Beau said.

“Well, I’m coming home,” she said.

He leaned slightly, spotting the suitcases behind her. Two large and one carry-on size. “I’m sorry, Pam. No. You left. You had a flat in the city. And I told you several times, I’m done with this arrangement.”

“And where am I supposed to go?”

“Back to your city flat, I suppose.”

“I let it go,” she said.

“Before making arrangements for your next residence?”

“I don’t have to make arrangements to come home to my house!”

“Not your house, Pamela. It’s where I live, it will be community property.” He glanced over her shoulder to the newish BMW in the drive. “Just as your car will be community property. And your other assets.”