Page 20 of Cass

He has an indifferent look on his face. “Honestly, you’re just not what I thought you’d be. You’re not really the kind of wife I want. Everything in our marriage is about you and your needs. You’re extremely selfish.”

Tears are threatening my eyes, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I’m speechless though. I suppose I thought I’d be the one leaving him, not the other way around. “Cass, all you care about is yourself and your damn career. You’re not what I want anymore. I need someone who cares about me. Someone who prioritizes me.”

“And I suppose you’ve already found that someone.” That’s a statement, not a question. I read people for a living. On some level, I knew he must be looking elsewhere for validation.

“I have. She makes me feel good about myself. That’s the kind of wife I need.”

He stands. “I’d like for you to leave. Tonight. I have no interest in being around you anymore.”

I pause for a moment, so as not to let him see how much this hurts.

Eventually, I gather my courage and speak. “I paid for this house, Roman. I’m not leaving.”

“It’s actually in my name, so you will leave. You’re not on the title or deed.” He owned the house before we got together. It’s technically in his name, not mine. I paid off the mortgage after we got married. I did it just after he lost his job, to alleviate some of the pressure I knew he was feeling. It was a drop in the bucket for me. It was obviously a careless mistake.

I suppose I don’t want to live here anyway. Too many memories. I don’t even like it here. He never let me decorate it how I wanted. I have a lot of money in my bank account. I’ll go and buy something that I like. Something more my style.

At that moment, it occurs to me that my financial advisor called me multiple times throughout the day.

I run into another room to check my voicemail. I have several messages from my advisor. I listen to them. I close my eyes in realization. Roman cleared out our accounts today. All of them.

I’m trembling. I need to keep it together. I walk back out, and throw the first hard object I can find at him. “You piece of shit. You stole all my money?”

“Ourmoney, sweetheart. My name was on everything. Every single account. It’sourmoney. Well, I guess now it’smine.”

He smirks at me. “For a supposedly smart woman, you’re not very smart.”

We’ve been together for three years, married for two, and he’s simply smiling about ruining me. I wonder if he ever cared about me. I doubt it.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry. I don’t know what comes over me. I charge at him. He grabs my wrists, and throws me across the room. My eye hits the corner of the coffee table. It feels like I’ve been punched in the eye. It’s so painful. I think I might pass out. I’m on the ground, writhing in pain.

He kneels beside me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to physically get hurt. You came at me. I was defending myself. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

He stands, without a single shred of compassion. “I packed your bags. They’re all in the closet by the front door. Drop your keys on the way out.” He walks out and goes into another room, just leaving me there on the floor, injured and alone.

I want to lay there and not move, but I immediately collect myself. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I have no clue where I’ll go, but I grab my bags and put them in my car.

I vow to myself in that moment I will never trust another man as long as I live. I will never give a man any control over any part of my life.

I head to a nearby bar. I need to drown my sorrows. The bartender takes pity on me and brings me a bag of ice.

I sit there for a few hours, icing my eye and licking my wounds with vodka. What is it about me that makes me so unlovable? I don’t think that I’m a terrible person, but man after man in my life has let me down.

I think back to my high-school boyfriend. I thought he loved me. He and my father were among the first in a long line of men to hurt me. I never seem to learn my lesson.

I attempt to charge my drinks, but my credit card is declined. They’re all declined. I realize that Roman canceled all of our joint credit cards. I can’t even check into a hotel without a credit card.

All I have is the money in my purse. I use that to pay for my drinks.

I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen years old, I’m a partner at a top law firm, and somehow, I’ve never had less than I do right at this moment. This may very well be rock bottom. It certainly feels like it.

There’s only one place for me to go right now. It’s humiliating, but I have no choice.

I drive to Darian’s house. It’s late. I don’t want to wake anyone. I use my key to get in, but I must be loud, because Scott comes downstairs. He’s groggy, wearing boxers and a T-shirt. “Cassie, is that you?”

I look down so he doesn’t see my eye. “Yes, sorry. I need somewhere to crash tonight. I’ll just quietly head to the guestroom.”

He stands in my way. “What happened?”

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