2. Chapter 2
Lydia
The drive home is quiet, but I can feel the anger radiating from Simon.
I insisted on driving since he’s been drinking, and although he had relinquished his keys, he wasn’t happy about it.
Instead of causing a scene in front of the valet, he handed them over, crushing them into my hands and making sure the teeth bit into my palms, something only I could see and feel.
“Here, darling. They’re all yours.” The reminder of his cold voice still sends a shiver down my spine.
The closer we get to our apartment, the tighter my chest clenches in anticipation, each breath shallow and ragged.
Simon sits beside me, radiating silent fury.
I can feel it pulsing through the cramped confines of the car.
My hands are clammy on the steering wheel, knuckles white from gripping it too hard.
My heartbeat thuds so loudly I’m sure he can hear it, each beat a warning drum in my ears, echoing the dread coiling in my stomach.
He’s never hit me before. Not really. But over the past few weeks, something has shifted. The laughter when he’d fake a swing at me, the way he’d lean in, eyes cold, enjoying the way I would flinch. Those moments have multiplied, grown sharper.
He knew about my past, how my mom’s husband would smack me when I was small, how I learned to tiptoe through my own house, always bracing for a blow. Simon knew, and he wielded that knowledge like a weapon, delighting in his little “jokes” that were never funny.
Tonight feels different. The way he crushed the keys in my palm was a clear signal that his anger is simmering just below the surface.
The humiliation at dinner, his bitter words in front of his coworkers, the way he stared straight through me when I told the valet he was too drunk to drive.
It’s as if every irritation, every slight, has stacked up, teetering on the edge.
The air in the car feels thick and suffocating, and my mind races through a thousand escape plans, none of which I can act on. I taste fear, metallic and harsh on my tongue. Every instinct screams that the line between his cruel jokes and real violence is about to snap, and I have nowhere to run.