Brandon: Clara! Get back in here right now! Look at this mess you made!
Clara: Clean it up yourself, Brandon! You and your precious mother!
Eleanor: She's insane! Brandon, call the police! She assaulted you in your own house!
Clara: It's my house, Eleanor! My parents paid the down payment on this mortgage, not yours!
I slammed the front door behind me, stepping out into the fresh morning air. My hands were shaking violently as I walked down the driveway toward my sedan. My face was still burning from Brandon's palm, but for the first time in three years, I felt like I could finally breathe.
My phone began buzzing frantically in my purse. I pulled it out and saw Brandon's name flashing on the screen. I declined the call immediately and dialed my best friend, Nina.
Nina: Hey, Clara! Are we still meeting for lunch today?
Clara: Nina... I need a place to stay. Right now.
Nina: What happened? You sound like you're crying.
Clara: Brandon struck me. In front of his mother.
Nina: What?! Are you okay?! Where are you right now?
Clara: I'm sitting in my car at the end of the street. I flipped the dining table on them and slapped him back.
Nina: Good for you! Come straight over to my apartment. I'm unlocking the door right now.
Clara: Thank you, Nina. I'm on my way.
I threw the car into drive and sped away from the suburban neighborhood. Three years of marriage, three years of constant psychological abuse, insults, and belittlement from Eleanor, and today it had finally turned physical.
Ten minutes later, I walked into Nina's apartment. The moment she saw the bright red handprint outline on my left cheek, her face turned pale with shock and outrage.
Nina: Oh, Clara... look at your face. We need to take photos of this immediately.
Clara: Photos? Why?
Nina: For the police, Clara! And for your divorce lawyer! You aren't going back to him, are you?
Clara: Never. I am completely finished with Brandon Vance.
Nina: Sit on the couch. I'm getting my camera and an ice pack.
I sat down on Nina's soft sofa, placing the cold ice pack against my swollen cheek. Nina took clear, high-resolution photographs of the mark from multiple angles.
Nina: That scum is going to pay for this. Have you called your father yet?
Clara: Not yet. My dad has heart trouble, Nina. If he finds out Brandon laid a hand on me, he'll drive straight over there with a tire iron.
Nina: Your father deserves to know, Clara. He holds the primary deed to that property, doesn't he?
Clara: Yes. The deed is listed under my family trust fund. Brandon's name isn't even on the deed.
Nina: Wait, really? Brandon acts like he owns a million-dollar estate!
Clara: My father allowed us to live there rent-free so Brandon could save money to launch his accounting firm. But Brandon put his mother's name on our joint bank account last month without asking me.
Nina: That parasite family has been leeching off you from day one!
My phone buzzed again. It was a text message from Brandon: *If you aren't back here in thirty minutes to clean this kitchen and apologize to my mother, I am locking you out and freezing our accounts.*
I stared at the screen, a cold smile forming on my lips.
Clara: Nina, hand me my laptop.
Nina: What are you going to do?
Clara: He thinks he can freeze my accounts? I'm calling my family's estate lawyer right now.