Chapter 1 - The Cold Asphalt
The first thing I felt was the freezing, unforgiving asphalt biting through the thin fabric of my maternity dress. The shock of the impact radiated up my spine, leaving me momentarily breathless. The second thing I felt was the sharp, violent sound of my husband’s expensive leather shoe striking the passenger door shut, mere inches from my trembling hand.
I looked up, stunned. Snow was already beginning to swirl around his pristine, black SUV—the very same vehicle I had purchased for him just three days earlier as a gesture of goodwill in our increasingly fractured marriage. The engine idled smoothly, a stark contrast to the chaotic pounding of my heart. The passenger window rolled down smoothly, revealing Derek’s face.
“You’re bad luck,” Derek said, his voice completely devoid of warmth. He leaned across the center console, looking down at me as if I were a discarded piece of trash. “I won’t let you ruin this car, Lena. And I definitely won’t let you ruin my life.”
I was eight months pregnant, barefoot because I had slipped my heels off during the long drive, and shaking uncontrollably on the shoulder of a desolate highway just outside Cedar Ridge. The biting wind whipped my hair across my face. I instinctively reached for my coat, but then I remembered it was resting neatly on the back seat, with my cell phone tucked deeply inside its pocket.
Derek smiled. It wasn’t a smile of anger; it was a smile of supreme, arrogant satisfaction. He looked as though he had just won a grand prize.
May you like
“Walk home,” he added, his eyes dropping to my swollen belly. “Maybe the cold and the baby will finally teach you how to behave. Maybe it will teach you not to embarrass me in front of my colleagues.”
Before I could even formulate a response, the window glided up. The heavy tires spun against the slush, kicking up freezing mud, and he drove away, leaving me entirely alone in the storm.
