Chapter 47

Reading my message, questions flood through my mind. The biggest being, how the heck does he know I’ve moved? I haven’t told him, and I doubt Garnar would. Thea doesn’t know him.

Cynthia’s message flashes through my mind. Sorry.

Oh my God, Cynthia. What did you do?

Before I can confront her, though, I need to deal with this Miles situation. For reasons I’m not ready to think about right now, it feels tremendously important to correct Miles’s misconceptions.

Yes, I’ve moved back in with Garnar, but I’ve certainly not gotten back together with him. This is a critical distinction.

I start to type.

It’s not what you think. I’ve moved into the guest room.

When finished, I hit send.

I wait a moment, then the phone starts to ring. It’s Miles. For one brief moment, I think of ignoring him and waiting for this whole thing to blow over. Miles is barely a part of my life; he doesn’t need detailed updates of what I get up to.

On the other hand, his voice can be a soothing comfort to me, and after the evening I’ve just had, I wouldn’t mind talking to him.

I sigh a little at my own lack of willpower when it comes to Miles, then answer the call.

He doesn’t wait for me to say hello. “This is how it starts.”

I sigh again, louder. “Miles –”

“He’s lured you back into his castle, Esther. You can say you’ve moved into the guest room, but he just sees it as you returning to his house and his life. He’s going to take advantage of you being there. Be careful.”

“I’ve already put a lock on my door, Miles. My room is secure now…”

“Why did you say ‘now?’ Did something happen before now?”

I would really rather not talk about the horror I found under my bed sheets. “They left me some surprises,” I say, being as vague as I can. “I didn’t exactly feel welcome.”

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t have moved back,” Miles says, anger seeping into his voice. “Where are you going to put your food? Are you going to have a mini-fridge in your room?”

“Garnar wouldn’t do anything that might affect our daughters. I highly doubt he would do something to the food, knowing they might eat it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Miles continues. “What about your bathroom?”

“I have my own bathroom,” I say.

“With its own lock?”

No. I hadn’t thought of locking my bathroom while I’m not inside of it. Looks like I need to head back to the hardware store.

“I’ll get a lock for the bathroom door.”

“This is such a terrible idea, Esther,” Miles says. “What would even possess you to move back in the first place? You can’t possibly like the torture of being with that guy.”

Since Miles doesn’t have children, I don’t expect him to understand, but I still tell him the truth. “Iris and Violet told me they missed me. And I miss them too. Until the divorce is settled and the custody arrangements organized, I’m not going anywhere again.”

Miles is quiet for so long that I pull the phone away from my face to double-check he hasn’t ended the call.

“Even so…” he tries to say.

I stay firm, “I will not abandon my girls again.” I’m annoyed by the mere suggestion that I might do otherwise, so I add, “And I don’t recall any of this being your business.”

“It could be,” Miles says, “If you’d actually leave your husband instead of crawling back to him.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Mark my words, Esther. You are making a mistake. Your husband is going to try to make your life miserable.”

“He’d do that whether I lived here or not,” I said.

“Just watch your back with him,” Miles says. “For me.”

He hangs up before I can reply. He always seems to have to get the last word in.

For me, he said. Like I wouldn’t be careful for myself.

Although, as much as I hate to admit it, that does seem to motivate me a little more to be careful. Maybe I will buy a mini-fridge for my room, to keep Garnar or Thea from contaminating my food or drinks, things they would know the girls wouldn’t eat or drink.

At the very least, it could keep them from eating whatever food I buy myself.

It’s really not that bad of an idea. I won’t tell Miles about it though. No reason to inflate his ego even larger.

I take a moment to rub my forehead and recover from my conversation with Miles. Then, I dial Cynthia.

“I told him not to say anything,” she says as soon as she picks up. “I’m guessing he called right away.”

“Texted,” I say, “Almost as quickly as your apology came through.”

“Yeah. I figured.” In the background of her call, I can hear people talking and the sound of cars zooming by.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Just left the club,” she says. “That’s where I ran into your guy.”

“Miles is not my guy.”

“Sure, sure. He had his usual crowd around him, but when he saw me, excused himself from them to come up to me and ask about you.” Cynthia clears her throat. “I might have been slightly upset still, about you moving back there.”

“You vented it all to him,” I say.

“I might have been a couple of wines into my evening…” Softer, she adds, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “What’s done is done.”

“You are a saint,” Cynthia says. Her words are a little slurred. Likely, she’s waiting for a cab to take her home.

I didn’t hear any club noises when Miles called me earlier. I wonder where he went to make that call. Did he leave the club as soon as Cynthia spoke to him?

It’s silly to be happy to know that news of me trumped the rest of Miles’s evening, but I still feel a small bit of pleasure zip through me, knowing he dropped whatever he had been doing to find a quiet place and call me.

“He was so furious when I told him,” Cynthia says. “I thought he might storm back to your house, throw you over his shoulder, and carry you out of there himself.”

For a brief moment, I indulge in the thought. Miles, all righteous fury, storming into the house like a knight in shining armor, ready to face off against the tyrannical ex-husband to save the fair maiden.

I’m ashamed, having such a childish fantasy. But I still enjoy it.

“You belong to me,” the Miles of my imagination says as he grabs me around my waist and hoists me over his shoulder.

As the haze of fantasy clears, I think over my actual conversation with Miles. “You didn’t tell him about my new job, did you?”

“No,” Cynthia says. “That never came up. As far as I know, he thinks you still work at the country club.”

Good. I hadn’t thought of mentioning the potential interview with Miles while I was on the phone with him, which I’m glad of. It really wasn’t a good time to bring that up with him, particularly since he was already so angry at me.

“He’s going to figure it out eventually,” Cynthia warns.

“I know,” I reply.

But when he does find out, I want it to be on my terms.

When I finally gather the courage to ask for that interview, I want to hold all the cards. I’m going to dazzle him so significantly, that he won’t be able to turn me down like he has all the others.

I’m going to get that interview.