The Perfect Husband (10 page)

She smiled and prayed he couldn’t tell it
was forced. “Good morning. You got in so late last night, I thought
you might appreciate the extra sleep.”

He stared at her with narrowed eyes, as if
deciding whether to trust the concern in her voice. His gaze
skimmed over her injured lip and then skittered away. She picked up
the plate of bacon and eggs and a separate plate with the toast and
set them at his usual place at the table.

“I don’t have time for breakfast.” He looked
back toward her and a sneer curled up his lip. “Besides, it looks
like shit.” With that, he turned his back to her, picked up his
briefcase and jacket and left.

Isobel stared after him, a little taken
aback. He’d been rude to her on many occasions and had often made
derogatory comments about her cooking, but it was usually when he
was spoiling for a fight. She touched her finger to her bruised lip
from the night before.

He’d returned home full of remorse, but any
guilt he’d felt in those dark hours had dissolved in the light of
day. It had never been like that before. Normally he was full of
sorrow and repentance for his bad behavior—at least for a few days
after an assault. The fact that he’d gotten over this one so
quickly was a strange new development and one that was more than a
little alarming.

“Yum, have you cooked bacon?”

Isobel turned to see Ben wandering into the
kitchen, his hair all askew. She smiled and bent down to hug
him.

“Good morning, honey. Yes, I made bacon and
eggs for Daddy.”

Ben cast a wary gaze around the kitchen.
“Where is he?”

“He had to leave for work, baby. He didn’t
have time to eat.”

His expression cleared. “Can I have it?”

“You certainly may.” She removed the plate
from the table and took it over to the counter to cut into more
manageable pieces. She transferred some of the food to a smaller
plate and took it back to Ben. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He looked up at her and once
again, his expression grew taut and troubled. “What happened to
your lip? It’s all red and puffy. Is that from last night?”

She averted her face and tried to think of
an answer. “I… I…”

“Did Dad hit you again? It was scary last
night to wake up to hear you fighting.”

He said it so matter-of-factly Isobel felt
an immediate rush of tears. She did her best to blink them away and
quickly changed the subject. “Is Soph up yet?”

“Yeah. I think she’s in the bathroom.”

Isobel glanced at the clock that hung on the
kitchen wall above the sink. It was going on for eight. She thought
of what Mason said about having twelve hours before Nigel realized
they were gone and felt a fresh wave of nerves. Every minute they
wasted took them closer to the time Nigel would return and discover
her betrayal.

And that’s how he’d see it. And why wouldn’t
he? She was walking out on her marriage. She’d sworn to love him in
sickness and in health, for better or worse, ’til death did they
part. At the time, she couldn’t imagine how bad it would get, but
the thought that she was about to irrevocably break her vows filled
her with sadness and guilt. She was about to split up her family
and after taking the first step there would be no turning back. All
of a sudden, she was paralyzed with indecision again.

Perhaps she should try harder to make him
happy?
Maybe she could try again to convince him to seek
professional help? They had two children to consider. Was it fair
to deprive them of their dad?

The questions tumbled around inside her head
until she wanted to scream out loud. It was only Ben’s presence at
the table that stopped her.

“Did Dad promise he wouldn’t hurt you
anymore?” The words came out of nowhere and she gasped.

“He was in a hurry to get to work, honey.
It’s up to me to change things,” she said, buying time.

“You said last night you’d make sure he
didn’t yell at you anymore. I wondered if you’d asked him not to
hurt you, too.”

Past scenes of violence that seemed like an
endless horror movie scrolled through her head. She closed her eyes
against the pain of it. Her heart thumped like it did when she and
Nigel were in the middle of another fight and all of a sudden her
determination from the night before solidified.

If she didn’t go now she’d have no hope for
a future. She’d forever be a victim and the victimization would
continue until she could no longer recognize it for what it was.
Either that, or she’d be dead. If she lost her nerve now, she’d
lose her chance for any kind of normal life with her children.
There was no question that she had to leave.

“Listen, honey, can you finish up here and
go and get dressed? We’re going out today.”

“Where to?”

“Um… We’re going to a friend’s house.”

“Will there be other kids?”

“No, Ben, but I’m sure you’ll have a good
time.”

“Who—?”

“Honey, I really need you to hurry. Just
finish what you’re eating and go and get changed. I want to leave
in fifteen minutes.”

He looked like he wanted to ask more
questions, but eventually gave a shrug. A moment later, he slid off
his chair and padded back the way he’d come.

Hurrying now, she cleared away the plates
and pans and quickly stacked the dishwasher. Out of habit, she
switched it on. Not that she’d be here to unpack it. Nigel would
have to learn how to do it.

She imagined Mason would be a little handier
around his place. She didn’t know how long he’d been divorced, but
he now lived on his own. She presumed he’d picked up at least a few
tips on the basic domestic activities of daily living.

The thought of staying in his apartment
suddenly brought her movements to a stop. What would happen when he
got tired of playing host to her and her children? They weren’t his
family, after all. They couldn’t hide out there forever. And what
about work? Would Nigel come marching up to the pediatric ward and
cause a scene?

He’d always gone out of his way to keep up
appearances at their place of employment, but would he continue to
have that much self-control? A lot of her colleagues had jokingly
expressed their envy over what a perfect husband he was. Attentive,
considerate, he called the ward two or three times a day to ask
after her and still regularly sent her flowers. Only Isobel knew
all of that was a form of control, just another way he kept tabs on
her.

Perhaps she should take some time off? Wait
until the worst of Nigel’s anger had been spent? She had a few
weeks of holidays owing and she could take that leave with pay. But
what about afterwards? How would she pay the bills without Nigel?
She couldn’t expect Mason to support them.

She didn’t have any money. Nigel had always
controlled all of their finances. Even her wages were deposited
into an account in his name. In the early days of their marriage,
he’d told her it was because he didn’t want her to worry about
trivial things such as money. He was the brains. It was his job to
keep her comfortable and he assured her he’d see to that.

Over the years, he’d forgotten his promise.
She’d been forced to beg for every dollar and quite often, her
requests were refused. There was never anything to spend on
frivolous things—at least what Nigel deemed frivolous. She couldn’t
help but notice the same rules didn’t apply to him. Only a month
earlier, he’d come home with an eight-hundred-dollar briefcase that
apparently he just couldn’t do without.

She’d have to go to a bank and open an
account and then have her wages redirected, but she didn’t have
time to do those things right now. She glanced at the clock again
and noticed another six minutes had slipped by. Wiping her hands on
a cloth, she hurried into her bedroom and finished packing the
last-minute things. Her hairbrush and toothbrush; toothpaste,
vitamins and her contraceptive pills. She went into the kids’
bedroom and collected a few of their toys.

“What are you doing, Mommy?” Sophie asked,
sitting up in her bed.

Isobel forced a smile. “We’re going on a
little trip.”

“Yay! Is Daddy coming?”

“Not this time, baby. Now, I need you to get
out of bed. I’ll help you get dressed. We’re in a bit of a
hurry.”

“Why?”

“We just are. Here, how about you put on
this dress? It’s going to be warm outside today.”

“I want to wear my jeans! The ones with the
flowers on the pocket.”

“Soph, it’s far too hot for jeans. Now, come
over here so I can get those pajamas off you.”

Her daughter shot her a frown so familiar,
it nearly broke Isobel’s heart. The little girl was a mirror image
of her father. Not that Isobel would ever hold that against her.
Still, she used her no-nonsense voice, aware time was ticking
away.

“You’re wearing this pretty dress, Sophie.
Now, come over here.”

With a melodramatic sigh and an eye roll
that would put the best actress in the world to shame, her little
girl climbed out of bed and moved over to where she stood.

“Lift up your arms.” Her baby did as she
asked without any further fuss and Isobel swallowed a sigh of
relief.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Bacon and eggs. Or cereal. Whatever you
like, but we have to be quick. We’re leaving very soon.”

Ben appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, buddy, can you go and brush your
teeth? We’re leaving as soon as your sister’s finished
breakfast.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

“Oh, Ben?” she called out after him.

He stopped and turned back to look at her.
“Yes?”

“Bring your toothbrush to me when you’re
finished. I need to pack it.”

He frowned. “Are we staying overnight?”

“Yes, honey. We are.”

“For how long?”

“I’m… I’m not sure. Right now, I need you to
brush your teeth, find your shoes and get ready to get into the
car, okay?”

He stared at her a moment longer before
slowly turning back toward the door. He left without another
word.

“Okay, Soph. You’re all set. Now, where are
your shoes?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I left
them near the front door.”

“All right, I’ll go and look for them. You
head into the kitchen. Did you decide whether you’re having cereal
or bacon?”

“I want blueberry pancakes and maple
syrup.”

“We don’t have time for pancakes, honey.
It’s bacon and eggs or cereal.”

“But I want pancakes.”

“Not today, Soph. I guess bacon and eggs it
is.”

Not giving the child any time to argue, she
left the room. She hurried toward the front door and found her
daughter’s shoes. After putting them on Sophie’s feet, Isobel set
out a small plate of food. Murmuring her thanks, her baby began to
eat.

“I’m ready,” Ben announced and flopped down
on the chair opposite his sister.

Isobel threw him a smile. “Great. We won’t
be too much longer. Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes, I left my toothbrush on your bed, near
the bag you’ve packed.”

His stare was pointed. She did her best to
ignore it. “We’re staying with my friend for a few days. I’m not
sure how long, exactly, but I thought we should take a few
things.”

“Does Dad know where we’re going?”

Her smile faltered. “Of course.” She averted
her gaze. “Soph, hand me your plate. It’s time to get going.”

After quickly rinsing her daughter’s things,
she hurriedly brushed the little girl’s teeth and tossed her
toothbrush into the bag. On her hands and knees, she tugged the
suitcases out from beneath the bed.

“There are more? I thought you said we were
only going for a few days?” Ben asked in an accusing tone.

Isobel jumped guiltily. “I did. But I also
said I wasn’t sure exactly how long we’re going to be away. I like
to be prepared.”

“How far away does your friend live? Is it
outside the city?”

“No, honey. Not very far. It shouldn’t take
us too long to get there.”

“Then if we run out of clothes, why can’t we
just come back?”

Impatience surged through Isobel, but she
forced herself to keep her temper in check. The clock on her
nightstand told her it was way past eight. Nigel would be almost
finished his ward rounds and would then be headed to the operating
rooms. As if on cue, the house phone rang. She hurried back into
the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Just thought I’d call and see how
you are.”

The tension inside her ramped up its efforts
to tighten her belly into knots. She forced a breath between her
clenched teeth. “I’m fine, Nigel. Thanks for asking.”

“What are you up to today?”

“I… I thought I might take the kids to the
park. It looks like it’s going to be a nice day.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been inside since I
left.”

“Well, I’ll make sure I tell you all about
it when you come home. What time do you think you might get away?”
She asked the question as casually as she could and hoped he
wouldn’t wonder about it.

“Not before seven. I have a full list
today.”

“Right. Well, have a good day.” She ended
the call, her heart thumping, and strode back into the bedroom.
With a suitcase in each hand, she made her way to the car.

It took another ten minutes to pack all the
bags and the kids into the Toyota. She made sure all the lights in
the house were off and then locked the door behind her. With hands
shaking, she fitted the key into the ignition and then heard the
ding
of her phone.
No, not her phone.
The phone Mason
had given her.

She dug into her handbag and pulled it out.
There was a new text message on the screen.

Thinking of u. UR the bravest woman I know.
I’m here 4 u. Don’t forget, the address of my apartment’s in the
phone. Make sure u have the key. C u tonight.

Isobel read through the message twice and
her breathing gradually slowed. Checking in her handbag, her
fingers closed around the house key he’d given her. With renewed
determination, she opened Google Maps and found the address. She
absorbed the details and turned on her GPS. Her hands tightened
around the steering wheel. She reversed out of the driveway and
didn’t look back.