2: 2
The next morning I woke early.
Hugh was still asleep in the study.
I made his breakfast and left it on the table.
Then I dragged my suitcase out and left the home I'd lived in for five years, without looking back.
My friend Lucille Fox came to pick me up.
She saw my swollen, red eyes and started cursing: "Hugh, that piece of trash!"
"I always said he was no good!"
"You were just too soft, that's why you gave him so much!"
I leaned against the window and watched the streets rush past.
"Lucille, I'm not soft anymore."
Lucille said she'd set me up at her place.
"Stay with me for now. Take your time finding a job, no rush."
"If money runs short, just tell me. Don't be shy about it."
I nodded. "Thank you, Lucille."
That afternoon, Hugh called.
His voice was hoarse and irritable, thick with a hangover.
"Libby, are you done throwing your fit?"
"Get back here now!"
"I didn't eat this morning, and now my stomach's acting up!"
Listening to him bark orders like he had every right to, I just found it laughable.
"Hugh, we already broke up."
"Your stomach, your breakfast, none of it has anything to do with me."
There was silence for a few seconds on his end, then a bigger burst of rage.
"Libby!"
"Who do you think you are?"
"You think you can survive without me?"
"I'm telling you, in three days you'll be crawling back to me in tears!"
I hung up on him.
I blocked every one of his numbers.
The world went quiet.
I took a job as an assistant at a newly opened design firm.
The pay wasn't much, but it was enough to support myself.
The first day was busy, exhausting.
But my heart felt steadier than it ever had.
That night, Lucille dragged me out to celebrate.
We ordered grilled skewers and beer at an outdoor food stall.
"To our new life!" Lucille raised her glass.
I laughed, clinked mine against hers, and drank it down in one go.
The sharp liquor burned down my throat, made me cough a little.
But it felt wonderful.
Just then, a black Maybach pulled up at the curb.
The door opened and Hugh got out.
He walked straight toward me, his face dark.
He snatched the glass out of my hand and smashed it on the ground.
"Libby, big and brave now, are you?"
"Learned how to drink, have you?"
Everyone around us turned to look, pointing and whispering.
I just wanted to disappear.
"Hugh, what the hell is wrong with you!" Lucille stood up and put herself between us.
Hugh didn't even glance at her. He kept his eyes locked on me.
"Come home with me."
"No." I looked back at him coldly and said it.
His eyes turned dangerous in an instant.
"I'll say it one more time. Come home with me."
He reached out and yanked me, his grip brutal.
I struggled, but I was no match for him.
"Hugh, let go of me!"
"You're hurting me!"
Lucille came up to help too, but he shoved her away.
"Get lost!"
He hauled me toward the car, forcing me along.
My nails raked a few bloody scratches down his arm as I fought with everything I had.
He winced, but didn't loosen his grip at all.
He only gripped me tighter.
"Libby, move one more time and see what happens!"
His voice was full of threat.
He shoved me into the car and slammed the door locked.
He came around to the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Hugh, where are you taking me?" I asked, terrified.
No answer. He stamped on the gas and the car shot forward.
