Chapter 3 - THE SUITCASE
I had packed before Lily’s party because Richard shoved me three nights earlier.
Not hard enough to knock me down.
Hard enough to change my plans.
We had argued about money.
Specifically, my money.
After Lily was born, I reduced my hours but never stopped working. By thirty-two, I managed guest services for a boutique hotel group and made enough to support myself if necessary.
Richard hated that more than he admitted.
He insisted all earnings go through joint accounts.
I kept one personal savings account from before marriage.
He discovered it.
“You’re hiding money.”
“It has nine thousand dollars.”
“Why do you need separate money?”
“Because it was mine before we married.”
“That sounds like you’re planning something.”
“I’m planning to be an adult.”
That was when he shoved me.
His palms hit my shoulders.
My back struck the bedroom door.
Then he froze.
“Maya—”
I walked into the bathroom and locked it.
He apologized through the door.
Said he was exhausted.
Said work was failing.
Said his father’s illness had left him carrying too much.
Then:
“Don’t destroy this family over one bad moment.”
I almost accepted it.
Then Lily knocked gently from the hallway.
“Mommy?”
That night I started packing.
Not everything.
Birth certificates.
Medication.
Two days of clothes.
Lily’s stuffed rabbit.
My passport.
A folder of financial records.
I placed the suitcase behind winter coats in the mudroom.
The plan was to leave after the birthday party.
May you like
I did not want Lily’s fourth birthday to become the date her parents separated.
Richard made that decision for me when he put my face into the cake.
