JESSALYN
“Three thousand bucks for a diamond engagement ring? That’s all? But it cost ten times that much.”
“Yeah? You got a receipt?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Three thousand bucks for the pair. Nobody wants princess-cut diamonds at the moment.” He tapped the glass counter in front of him. “Got six here I can’t sell. You could try Herb at the Trading Post, but he’ll tell you the same as me. We’re businessmen, not charities.”
I’d hoped for five thousand at least, but what choice did I have?
I didn’t have time to go traipsing all over Keene, New Hampshire, negotiating for more.
Ridge was already on my tail, and it was only a matter of time before he realised Carol and Shana had cooked up a scheme to deceive him.
Two strangers who’d stepped in to help me pick up the pieces of a shattered life, and I owed them everything.
Apart from Saylor, I had no support network anymore. Ridge had stripped it away until I relied on him and him alone, and I shuddered just from thinking about it.
“You okay, doll?” the pawnshop owner asked.
“Uh, yes. Yes, I’m fine.” I took a steadying breath, and my gaze settled on a cabinet full of cell phones, older models mostly. “If you’ll throw in a phone, I’ll take the three thousand.”
Maybe my sunglasses had slipped again, because his expression softened.
“Tell you what, I’ll throw in the phone and a cup of coffee. Gonna be a cold one today.”
It was. New England winters were hard, and I only hoped I’d brought enough blankets. But if I made it far enough south, as I hoped to do, I wouldn’t have to worry about snow anymore. I smiled a thank-you out of habit.
“I appreciate that. Is there someplace around here that I can buy a vehicle? A cheap one,” I added hastily.
“You want to talk to Mike. Mike’s Motor Mall. He’s a great guy, always has good runners to suit every budget.”
“Is that near here?”
“On Alfred Street, as you head out of town. West of I-95.”
I planned to head in that direction anyway.
Then I’d follow I-95 south and pray Ridge didn’t catch up with me.
He’d report me missing, of course, but I didn’t think he’d report the car as stolen.
Why? Because then either he’d look like a petty asshole, or he’d have to admit to the shortcomings in our marriage.
Hey folks, my wife hates me so much she took my Lexus and fled the state.
No, he’d tell the cops I’d had a breakdown.
Frame himself as the caring husband who just wanted to get me the help I so badly needed.
The only saving grace was that the cops didn’t like him very much.
All the times he’d sued the police for misconduct had left a river of bad blood between Ridge Packer and the Biddeford PD, the Maine State Police too.
But Ridge knew enough shady private investigators that no corner of the United States would be safe for me, and leaving the country wasn’t an option right now because he kept my passport locked in the safe.
And the safe was a fancy thing that required his fingerprint to open.
The pawnbroker handed me a cup of milky coffee, and I sipped while he did the paperwork and counted out the cash in front of me.
Then I waved goodbye and good riddance to my wedding and engagement rings.
Five years ago, when Ridge slid that diamond onto my finger, I’d thought I was in love.
Now I realised that I’d been in love with an idea.
With a man Ridge was incapable of being.
But for a while, he’d put on a good act. He deserved an Oscar. To the temple.
I hated that man.
But more than that, I hated myself.
Hated myself for being such a fool. Hated that I’d been too scared to leave sooner. Hated the tears that threatened to escape at any moment. Everyone thought I had the perfect life, but I was broken inside. So broken.
At least one person was happy to see me. Well, one dog. Shiro showered me with licks when I slid back behind the wheel, three thousand bucks richer, in possession of a prepaid SIM card, and filled with nervous anticipation.
“Let’s see if we can get us a station wagon, boy.” His yip-yip said he wanted a walk, not a ride. “Once we’re clear of New Hampshire, we can take a break, I promise.”
Yes, I talked to my dog. Some days, that was the best conversation I had.
He didn’t complain if dinner was five minutes late, didn’t criticise my choice of clothing, didn’t complain if I cursed, and didn’t set impossible standards for me to live up to.
Try to tone down the accent, Jessalyn. You’re in a five-star hotel, not a dive bar.
Ridge had suppressed my personality, the essence of what made me, well, me, so effectively that I’d barely noticed he was doing it.
Gone was the girl who used to line-dance in cowboy boots, replaced by a Stepford wife.
The only part of my past I’d clung on to was my love of cooking, but now I’d have to wave goodbye to that too, at least temporarily.
Maybe I’d be able to get a job in a kitchen?
Split shifts would be perfect so Shiro wouldn’t have to spend too much time alone, but I’d take anything to get back on my feet.
Finding a place to stay would be the first challenge.
I hadn’t dared to research in case Ridge caught me, but I knew from watching the news that property prices had gone crazy since I last rented a room, and securing a home would be even harder with Shiro in tow.
But abandoning him wasn’t an option. He’d been there for me through my worst days, and I’d always be there for him.
We’d have to sleep in the car for a while, and that was okay. We’d make it through. Somehow, we’d make it through. There were three steps to happiness, Mom had always told me. Find something to love, something to keep you busy, and something to hope for. But over the years since, I’d lost my way.
Sure, there had been brief glimmers of joy, but sadness overshadowed them.
Strange how happiness and sadness went hand in hand when there was such an imbalance of power.
Sadness stripped you to your bones, and each time it receded, it left so many scars that the good times were hard to remember.
Happiness was fleeting, ephemeral, sparkling on the horizon but always out of reach.
But I’d become so, so good at pretending.
My fans all said so.
I wish I had Jessalyn’s energy!
#LifeGoals
Uh, it should be illegal to be that cheerful.
Yes, I’d managed to carve out a successful media career by being faker than a three-dollar bill.
At first, Ridge had indulged my “dumb hobby” because it “kept me out of trouble.” But later, when he realised my earning potential, he’d taken the helm and curated my life into an illusion.
As for the money? He’d taken that too. We were married.
What’s yours is mine, what’s mine is mine as well.
When we met, I’d been on my knees, and instead of helping me up, he’d pretended to lift me and then kicked me headlong into the dirt.
The first message I sent with my new phone was to Saylor.
Me
New number! Heading through New Hampshire with Shiro, let me know when your digital detox is over. J x
What time was it in Seoul? Korea was thirteen hours ahead of Maine, so she’d probably be asleep, and I hoped she was enjoying the bachelorette party.
The move overseas had been hard on her—she was struggling to learn Korean, plus her daughter wasn’t settling at school, and she didn’t have a car yet.
The only good thing about her being so far away was that Ridge couldn’t easily pay a visit and try to strong-arm my location out of her.
Mike’s Motor Mall wasn’t much of a mall, and Mike wasn’t around either.
Three rows of cars sat on a grimy concrete lot, although someone had tried to cheer the place up by tying balloons to the windshield wipers.
A man emerged from a squat grey building at the rear, chewing.
His name badge said “Shaun,” and the ketchup on his tie said I’d interrupted his lunch.
“Can I help, ma’am?”
“I’m looking for a vehicle.”
He eyed the Lexus parked at the kerb. “I hate to turn down business, but you’d be better off going to Deluxe Autos on the other side of town.”
“Oh, no, I just borrowed it.” And I couldn’t sell it because I didn’t have the title. “My budget is definitely more at your end of the scale.”
“How much do you have to spend?”
“A thousand bucks, max.”
The slight widening of his eyes told me that maybe I’d slid off the scale altogether.
“A thousand bucks? You’re gonna be limited.”
“You don’t have anything?”
Shaun glanced around the lot, calculating. “I didn’t say that. I got one that might be right up your street. See the Camry at the end?”
You could hardly miss it. “The pink one?”
“A real ladies’ car.”
Gee, was it the colour? Or the eyelashes over the headlights? The yellow butterflies painted on the doors? The “I Love Hot Yoga” sticker in the window?
“Is there a less conspicuous option?”
Shaun seemed disappointed. “I guess I got two other vehicles I could let go for that price.”
Thank goodness. “Which are they?”
“The Crown Vic over there. It’s the best runner, but I’m not gonna lie—it smells a little fusty.”
By “fusty,” he meant someone had puked in there.
Probably multiple times. I’d be practically living in the car, at least to start off with, and it wasn’t just myself I needed to consider.
Shiro’s nose was a lot more sensitive than mine.
Although he had tried to eat a dead squirrel last month, so maybe he’d be okay with it?
“I’ll throw in a bottle of Febreze and an air freshener,” Shaun offered.
“What’s the other option?”
He pointed to a dark green Nissan. “This Altima had one owner from new, but her daughter doesn’t want her driving anymore. Cataracts.” Shaun made a face. “A real shame.”
If she’d suffered from eyesight problems, that would explain all the dents. I counted four on the driver’s side alone. But cosmetic damage didn’t matter as long as the car would take me far, far away from Maine.
“That one’s perfect.”
“You think? Uh, I mean, that’s great.” Shaun beamed at me. “You won’t regret it. How do you want to pay?”
“In cash.”
Shaun helped me to transfer my belongings into the Altima, diplomatically keeping his mouth shut about the dog food and blankets, and my black eye too. Then it was time to say goodbye to Ridge’s precious nubuck leather and the last remnant of my old life.
“I just need to return the Lexus, okay? I’ll be back in a half hour,” I told Shaun.
“Sure thing, ma’am. I’ll top off the oil and coolant while you’re gone.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
I drove a mile and a half away to a street that didn’t look particularly nice, parked the Lexus outside a convenience store, and left the doors unlocked with the key on the seat.
Its fate was in the Lord’s hands now. With any luck, it would find its way to a chop shop and not back to Ridge.
With Shiro by my side, I wasn’t worried about walking back to the Motor Mall alone, and it gave us both the chance to stretch our legs before what promised to be a long drive.
I just wanted to put as much distance between us and Maine as possible.
Although I’d never return to Alabama. I’d been happy there once, but my childhood memories had been tainted by what my father did. North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee… Maybe I’d make it as far as Georgia? Or even Mississippi?
Honestly, I didn’t care, just as long as I was nowhere near Ridge.