I've dreamed of the perfect marriage ever since I was a little girl: a marriage complete with a hardworking husband while I tended to the home and our children, preferably four little rugrats to call my own. I dreamed of a life filled with laughter...
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I watch the black town car drive away, kicking up dirt into a giant dusty cloud. Mr. Beauchamp had insisted after our two-hour-long meeting that his driver bring me here rather than a cab. I had argued at first, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
No client of mine will be stuck in a cab for two hours, Mrs. Montgomery, not if I have anything to do with it. Plus, per your prenup, Daniel is responsible for all attorney's fees so long as you don't contest the previously agreed-upon terms. If I can't convince you to go for more than the five million you agreed to before getting married, then at least let me squeeze every dime out of him that I can.
I didn't argue after that. Daniel's and my prenup is ironclad, and I have no intention of wasting any more of my time on this farce of a marriage. Frankly, I've wasted enough. Five million is enough. It's enough to start over. It's enough to heal. It's enough to walk away with my head held high. And that's exactly what I plan to do.
Now, here I am. Nowhere near home. Nowhere near a life that I know. That fact is only confirmed by the incessant sounds of animals and the overwhelming smell of wet pasture, animals, and what I assume to be excrement. This place is so far removed from the world that I'm used to. On the drive here, I had allowed my imagination to run wild and pictured myself stepping right into my very own Anne of Green Gables scene, filled with eagerness and adventure. But, now that I'm standing here, alone and so out of my realm, I feel none of those things. I feel unease, and it's settling in my stomach like mud.
Maybe I should have put more thought into this move.
My hands tremble at my sides as my new reality begins to crash around me.
What have I done?
What was I thinking?
What is wrong with me?
Today, I didn't give myself time to think about what I was doing or where I was going. It was all about taking steps: one after the other so that I couldn't back out. It was about focus. It was about getting away as fast as I could, keeping my eyes forward because if I looked back, I'd break.
I can't afford to break. Not anymore.
My suitcase sits beside me. Needing to get my mind back in the game before intrusive thoughts sneak in and turn me into a whimpering mess, I grab the handle of my suitcase and turn, facing the two-story log cabin. No one appears to be around, but I'm sure they're here somewhere. Based on the drive here, this is an incredible property that has to be at least several hundred acres in size.
As I reach the porch, a raspy bark explodes from behind the screen door.
"Oh, hush, Pugsly," a female voice says from inside.
I knock three times, and the barks increase in volume. It only takes a few moments before a woman, a woman I know as Lucy, walks up with a bright smile.
