My husband h!t me because I refused to move into his mother’s house. The next morning, he tossed a makeup bag onto the bed and sneered, “Mom’s coming for lunch. Cover those bruises and act like everything’s fine.”

By eleven forty-five, the atmosphere inside the townhouse had completely shifted.

My packed suitcase was safely locked inside the trunk of my father’s car outside. The makeup bag remained upstairs on the bed, entirely untouched.

Dad was sitting calmly in the armchair near the fireplace, a cup of coffee resting on the small side table next to his open briefcase. I sat on the sofa opposite him, my hands folded neatly in my lap, making no attempt whatsoever to conceal the marks on my face.

At precisely 11:58 a.m., the sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway announced Julian’s arrival.

Through the front window, I watched him walk up the stone pathway alongside his mother. Eleanor was dressed impeccably in pastel trousers and a silk blouse, holding a pastry box tied with pink ribbon. Julian carried a bottle of expensive white wine, looking relaxed and confident.

“I told the real estate agent that we need a property with a ground-floor suite,” Eleanor’s voice carried clearly through the front door as they approached. “I’m not getting any younger, Julian.”

“Don't worry, Mom,” Julian replied smoothly. “Audrey’s place will sell within a week. We’ll have plenty of cash for the down payment.”

The front door unlocked and swung open.

Eleanor stepped into the entryway first, her cheerful smile fixed on her face. “Audrey, dear, I brought those lemon tarts you—”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Her gaze landed first on my unvarnished, bruised face. Then her eyes drifted across the living room and locked onto the man sitting in the armchair.

The pastry box slipped an inch in her manicured hands before she caught it.

Julian stepped in behind her, shutting the door. “Mom, what’s the hold-up? We need to set the table before—”

He froze. The wine bottle in his right hand lowered slowly until it hung loosely by his side. His eyes darted from my swollen jaw to the empty hallway where my luggage usually sat, and finally to my father.