At Breakfast, My Husband Lashed Out When I Refused to Hand Over My Credit Card

“I always knew that Eric was a jerk. It’s about time someone took him down a peg.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon making calls and sending emails. I canceled my joint credit cards, changed the passwords on all my online accounts, and even set up a new email address.

With each step, I felt like I was reclaiming a piece of myself. As evening approached, Claire’s phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, then looked at me with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

“It’s Megan,”

she said.

“About the bookstore job. She wants to know if you can come in for an interview tomorrow.”

My heart raced. The idea of working in a bookstore had always been a dream of mine, one that Eric had dismissed as impractical.

Now here was a chance to make it a reality.

“Yes,”

I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice.

“Tell her yes.”

That night, as I lay in the guest bed, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I thought about Eric, wondering if he was worried about me or just angry.

I thought about Marie, imagining her shock when she arrived at an empty house. Part of me felt guilty, but a larger part felt free.

The next morning, I woke early, nervous energy thrumming through me. Claire helped me pick out an outfit for the interview, a simple blouse and skirt combination that made me feel both professional and true to myself.

The Cozy Corner bookstore was everything I’d imagined and more. Shelves lined with books stretched from floor to ceiling, the air filled with the comforting smell of paper and ink.

Megan, Claire’s cousin, was a bubbly woman with a pixie cut and an infectious laugh.

“So,”

she said, after we chatted for a while about books and my experience.

“Claire tells me you’re in a bit of a tough spot.”

I hesitated, unsure how much to share. But Megan’s kind eyes and open expression made me feel safe.

“I’m leaving my husband,”

I said, the words still feeling strange on my tongue.

“I need a fresh start.”

Megan nodded, her expression serious.

“Well, I can’t offer you much in terms of salary, at least not to start. But what I can offer is a safe place to work, flexible hours, and a chance to be surrounded by books all day. How does that sound?”

It sounded like heaven.

“When can I start?”

I asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of my voice. Megan laughed.

“How about next Monday? That’ll give you some time to sort things out.”

As I left the bookstore, clutching my new employee handbook, I felt a surge of hope. For the first time in years, I was making decisions for myself, charting my own course.

But my newfound optimism was short-lived. When I returned to Claire’s house, I found her pacing in the kitchen, her face tight with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

I asked, my heart sinking. Claire hesitated, then handed me her phone.

On the screen was a series of text messages from Eric. My blood ran cold as I read them.

“Where is she?”

the first one demanded.

“I know you’re hiding her.”

The messages grew increasingly aggressive, culminating in a final threat.

“If she doesn’t come home by tonight, I’m coming to get her myself.”

I felt the room spin, my knees threatening to give out. Claire steadied me, guiding me to a chair.

“It’s okay,”

she said firmly.

“He doesn’t know you’re here. We won’t let him near you.”

But I knew Eric. Once he set his mind to something, he wouldn’t stop.

The thought of him showing up here, endangering Claire and her family, made me sick.

“I need to go,”

I said, my voice shaking.

“I can’t put you in danger.”

Claire shook her head vehemently.

“No way. We’re in this together. Besides,”

she added, a glint of determination in her eye.

“I have an idea.”

She quickly dialed a number on her phone.

“Sarah? It’s Claire. We need your help. How quickly can you get that restraining order?”

As Claire talked to Sarah, explaining the situation, I sat at the kitchen table, my mind racing. I thought about everything that had happened in the past few days.

Leaving Eric, reconnecting with Claire, meeting with Sarah, the job at the bookstore. I’d come so far; I couldn’t let Eric drag me back now.

A plan began to form in my mind. It was risky, perhaps even a bit cruel, but as I thought about Eric’s threats, about all the years of control and manipulation, I knew it was necessary.

When Claire hung up the phone, I took a deep breath.

“I have an idea,”

I said.

“But I’m going to need your help.”

As I outlined my plan, I saw Claire’s eyes widen. Then, a slow smile spread across her face.

“Oh, Lena,”

she said, a note of admiration in her voice.

“I always knew you had it in you.”

For the rest of the day, we worked on putting our plan into action. We made calls, sent emails, and prepared for what was to come.