“I can bunk tomorrow. But the next day, I have a work trip, so I have to go out of town for like two weeks.”
“I guess I have to learn to be alone at some point. I don’t know if Shane will try to come back this time.” Ignoring her chow mein, her attention stays on Duggan—on the soft yellow tie I’d put around his neck.
If she lets him back into her life, I’m not sure I’ll fight the temptation to drag her through the house myself…and lock her somewhere he’s too lazy to look.
“That’s good. Honestly, you shouldn’t let him back, even if he begs on his fucking knees.”
“I don’t know any different. I don’t like being alone or change.”
“I will call you every hour if I have to. I’ll pass it off as a sensitive bladder and take pee breaks. And I’ll have my dad stop by and check on you daily. You don’t need Shane.”
“I hope that won’t be necessary, but yes, please call when you can. You don’t have to take a million pee breaks.” Dollie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Eyes that stay low.
Dollie’s mind drifts again. I see it in the slight widening of her pretty blue eyes—so much like Mom’s. I see it in the tense way she holds Duggan.
A beat passes, and she asks, “Do you think he would have actually killed me?”
Not a fucking chance.
Annabelle sets down her dinner. “Men like him don’t always do what they do to you to kill. Sometimes, they do it because they want you to know that they can. They want that control overyou, but it can always escalate. You deserve so much better than whatever the fuck he is. It’s merely days before your birthday, he’s made no plans for you, and what’s your gift? You found out he was cheating.”
“I saw messages on his phone from like five hundred different women, and I’m not exaggerating.” Dollie wipes a stray tear. Her head lifts so she can see Annabelle’s face, but not her eyes, maybe just those glowing teeth that she had done in Turkey last year.
“He probably just wanted to control you, and in truth, I feel like he’s done it for years.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when was the last time we did something like this?” Annabelle’s words come out quickly, eager to slip around the noodles she’s returned to and put in her mouth. “When did we have a girls’ day?”
“I just always felt bad about leaving him on his own.”
“Did you never think there was a reason that he had no friends?”
“He did. He did things with the guys from work. They’d go to amusement parks and out for food.”
“And where did he ever take you?”
“We didn’t go often. He said it would cost him double to do anything with me, as I don’t earn enough to pay for myself.”
“You stayed with this guy for ten years, and he’d moan about having to pay for your lunch?”
“Ironic, isn’t it? Because he was fine with paying for drugs for one of his floozies. You know, thinking about it, those days out with work friends could have been dates with other women.”
“He’s a cunt.”
He is a cunt, Annabelle, I agree.
“I’m sorry, and I’m so sorry for what happened here tonight. For how you wheeze when you talk.”
Fuck. I’ve been trying to ignore that, but flaring nostrils say she’s not doing too well.
“We can call my dad. You can have him arrested for attempted murder.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I must be cursed. A guy comes near me, and bam, prison.”
