The Perfect Husband (9 page)

“Where the fuck have you been?”

She yelped in fright. Her heart leaped into
her throat. In growing panic, she felt around for the light switch.
Nigel sat on the couch in the dark, nursing a glass of scotch. His
cheeks were flushed and his breath came fast. It obviously wasn’t
his first drink. He stared at her, his hard eyes glittering with
anger.

“N-Nigel! You scared me half to death!” she
said, silently willing the trembling from her limbs.

His gaze narrowed. “I said, where the fuck
have you been?”

“N-nowhere. At work.”

“Bullshit. I called there. You left more
than an hour ago. You should have been here well before now.”

He stood and stalked toward her until he was
little more than a breath away. He loomed over her. She held her
ground, even while her heart thumped hard enough to cause pain. She
tilted her head up and stared at him.

“Who have you been with?” he spat. “It’s
David Hamilton, isn’t it? You’ve been fucking him, haven’t you?
That’s the reason you’re late.”

She shook her head, anxious for him to see
reason. “No! No! You’re wrong, Nigel. It’s like I told you, I’ve
only been at work.”

His hand flashed past her face and grabbed a
fistful of her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes. She whimpered
against the pain.

“Nigel, please. You’re hurting me.”

His grip only tightened. He forced her head
back until her face was inches away from his. She shivered at the
malice in his eyes.

“Don’t lie to me, bitch! I asked one of your
colleagues. David was working tonight. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
he screamed, spittle flying out of his mouth. He yanked her hair
again and she bit down hard on the pain.

“Do you think I’m
stupid?
You were
fucking him, weren’t you? Probably in the back seat of his car,
like the filthy, little slut that you are. That’s why you’re late,
isn’t it?” He shook her again. “
Isn’t
it?”

Fear turned her limbs leaden. Tears streamed
down her cheeks. She tried to shake her head, but his grip on her
hair made it impossible. “No! No! It was nothing like that,” she
sobbed.

He brought his face so close to hers she
could feel his hot breath against her skin. The smell of alcohol
turned her stomach. She swallowed hard to hold back the bile.

“Then what?” he growled, his voice now low
and deadly. “There must be some reason you’re more than half an
hour late.”

Her thoughts turned frantic. She had no idea
what to tell him. Certainly not the truth. With as much courage as
she could muster, she settled on a lie.

“There was a traffic accident on the
freeway. I had to wait.”

He stared at her with narrowed eyes and she
could tell that he wasn’t sure whether to believe her. After what
seemed like a lifetime, he loosened his grip and released her.

“You’d better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not, I promise.” She moved across the
room, well out of his reach. As much as she wanted to turn and walk
right back out, she couldn’t. Her children were asleep down the
hall. There was no way in hell she’d leave without them. No, her
only hope was to pacify him, ease his anger; calm him down.

“It’s late, Nigel. We’re both tired. How
about we go to bed?” While everything inside her screamed out
against what that meant, she held out her hand to him.

He stared at her, his eyes full of
suspicion, but a moment later, he stepped closer and put a heavy
arm across her shoulders. He held her close against his side as
they walked together down the hall. Isobel counted her footsteps to
keep herself from turning and running in the opposite
direction.

“I just want to check on the children,
Nigel. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He looked down at her for a moment, studying
her, and then shrugged. His arm fell away and he continued on in
the direction of their bedroom.

Isobel quickly opened the door to the
bedroom shared by her kids. Slipping inside, she closed the door
behind her and collapsed against it. Her breath came fast and her
heart pumped wildly. She tried hard to get both under control.
Knowing Nigel would get impatient if she took too long, she hurried
over to the twin beds where Ben and Sophie lay.

The soft moonlight streamed in through the
window and found its way through the half-opened blinds. She stared
at her babies, both sound asleep and blissfully unaware. A fierce
surge of maternal protection flooded through her. She’d do anything
to keep them safe. Nigel had never turned his anger on them, or
suggested he might until the other night, but what if she wasn’t
around to take the brunt of his rage when something else set him
off?

What if he gave her sleeping pills? What if
he made her disappear? What then? Would her babies become his next
targets? She couldn’t take the chance. They needed her. She had to
get them all out of there as soon as Nigel left in the morning.

Her thoughts drifted to Mason almost against
her will and she recalled the escape plan they’d discussed. She
wanted to call him, to seek reassurance, but she couldn’t. Not only
was it very late, but she couldn’t risk Nigel hearing her on the
phone.

Mason
. What a fool she was, having
romantic thoughts about him as her knight in shining armor… She
shouldn’t even be thinking about him.

He looked much as he had in high school.
Tall and athletic, with an easy smile that reached all the way to
his eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled freely
at anyone like that for fear Nigel would misinterpret it.

Mason was the ultimate boy next door, the
boy everyone trusted. But could
she?
Sadness flooded through
her. Trust no longer came easy to her, even in herself. Something
else Nigel had stolen.

With a quiet sigh, she leaned over and
pressed a gentle kiss against the soft cheeks of Sophie and Ben and
reluctantly left the room.

When she got there, their bedroom was empty.
Her tension ratcheted up another notch. She wondered where Nigel
was, but forced the thought aside. She went into the bathroom and
removed her makeup and then picked up her toothbrush.

She opened the cabinet above the sink to
look for the tube of toothpaste and froze. The sleeping pills were
gone. She glanced through the open doorway toward the bed. A glass
of water sitting on her nightstand caught her attention.

Icy fingers of fear clawed at her heart.
Panic filled her veins. Her throat went tight and she could barely
breathe. She had to get out of there. Had to escape. Before it was
too late.

A moment later, Nigel’s large form filled
the door to the bathroom, his eyes flashing with anger. She bit
back a cry of alarm and braced herself against another attack,
wondering desperately what she’d done this time to set him off.

“You fucking liar!”

She shook her head in confusion, but forced
herself to remain calm. “Quieten down, for goodness sake. You’ll
wake the children. What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” he
shouted, ignoring her plea. “There wasn’t an accident on the
freeway. I just checked on the Internet with traffic control.”

A sinking feeling centered in her belly and
icy dread flooded her veins. In panic, she thrust around in her
mind for something to say. “I… I’m not sure what you want me to
say. Your information’s wrong. There
was
an accident. It’s
the reason I was late.”

His fist came out from nowhere and connected
with her face. Blood, hot and acrid, filled her mouth. A second
later, it was followed by stinging pain. She gasped and brought her
hand up to her lip. It came away wet and sticky with blood.

Tears filled her eyes and ran down her
cheeks. She tried to keep the sobs in check, but it was no use. She
heard Sophie crying and somehow, that made everything worse. Nigel
stood over her, breathing hard.

“What’s the matter, Mommy? I heard Daddy
shouting. Sophie needs you. Why’s your face bleeding?” Ben asked
from the hallway.

Ben stood, small and uncertain, in the
shadows by the bed. Fear pinched his features. Tears glinted in his
eyes. She hastily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and
hurried to reassure him.

“It’s all right, baby. Daddy just…” She
stopped midsentence and struggled to find the words to explain.

“I know,” Ben finished quietly. “You were
having another fight.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! You’re nearly six
years old! Don’t be such a cry baby.” Nigel threw their son a look
of disgust and stormed out of the bedroom. A moment later, the
front door slammed.

Isobel stared after him. Usually, she’d
follow him outside and try to pacify him, beg him to come back
inside. But tonight, she couldn’t find the strength and his
departure provided a level of relief she welcomed. Besides, her
babies needed her. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks and used a
tissue to dab at her lip. With a wobbly smile, she went to Ben.

He threw himself against her and she
gathered him in her arms. Burying her nose in the softness of his
hair, she tried hard to regain control.

“It’s okay, baby. I promise. Mommy’s
okay.”

“But you’re bleeding!”

“Only a little bit. I… I just cut my lip.
It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I hate it when Daddy yells at you. I don’t
want him to hurt you. He’s mean.”

He said it so quietly, she nearly missed it.
When his words penetrated the turmoil in her head, hot tears burned
behind her eyes. Yes, leaving couldn’t happen soon enough.

She squeezed him tightly and pressed a kiss
against his cheek. “I hate it, too, baby and I’m going to do
something about it.”

“I talked to Jack at daycare and he said his
dad doesn’t yell at his mom like my dad yells at you.”

She sucked in a breath. “Jack’s right,
honey. Most dads don’t yell like that and I’m going to make sure
your daddy doesn’t do it again, either.”

Ben pulled a little away from her and looked
up, his dark eyes solemn with uncertainty and hope. “Do you think
he’ll stop when you tell him?”

She stared down at him and prayed she’d
convince him. “Yes. Don’t worry, honey. Daddy’s never going to yell
at Mommy again.”

After tucking him back up in bed, and taking
a moment to comfort Sophie and get her back to sleep, Isobel pulled
down two suitcases from the shelf in her closet. Knowing Nigel
could return any minute, she had one ear tuned to listen for the
sound of his key while, with her heart pumping hard, she threw
clothes and shoes and toiletries into one suitcase and then took
the other into the bedroom shared by Sophie and Ben.

Quickly and quietly, aided only by
moonlight, she filled the second suitcase. With a sigh of relief,
she dragged it into her bedroom and hid both cases under her bed.
The glass of water on her nightstand caught her eye.

With one eye on the door, she picked up the
glass and emptied it down the drain. Then she quickly refilled it
and placed it back on the nightstand and climbed into bed.

It was almost two in the morning when she
heard Nigel’s key in the door. She forced herself to lie still and
quiet under the covers and prayed his mood had improved. He walked
into the bedroom with a heavy tread.

From the dim glow coming from the street
light outside the window, she saw that his shoulders were bowed,
along with his head. She swallowed a sigh of relief. He switched on
the light on her nightstand and then perched himself on her side of
the bed. It was all she could do not to scream.

He stared at her swollen lip and his
expression flooded with remorse. His head dropped into his
hands.

“I’m sorry, Isobel,” he sobbed. “I’m so
sorry. I don’t know why you drive me to hit you like that. Why do
you make me so mad? You know I don’t handle it well!”

He shook his head back and forth. His hands
fell away and he turned back to look at her. “I love you so much. I
don’t want to hurt you. Sometimes…I just go crazy. I know you’re
not seeing David Hamilton, but the thought of you with another man…
It sends me over the edge.”

Anger over the injustice of his treatment of
her ignited way down deep inside, but she couldn’t give it voice.
The best thing to do was to agree with him and keep things calm.
That way, he’d get over his suspicions—at least for the time
being—and hopefully go to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Nigel. I wish I’d gotten home
earlier. There was nothing I could do.”

He stared at her, as if trying to gage her
sincerity and then reached for the glass on her nightstand.

“Here, take a sip of water. You’ll feel
better.” He held the glass to her lips and she took a small
drink.

“Have some more.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks. Come
to bed.”

It took everything she had inside her, but
she reached out for him and drew him into her arms. He collapsed
against her and sobbed against her chest. She held him through the
long minutes while he cried himself to sleep. Every second of it,
she prayed for the morning to arrive.

Isobel flipped the bacon over in the pan and
checked the toast. It popped up just as she reached for the button
and she jumped. Telling herself not to be so jittery, she pulled it
out and quickly spread it with butter, just the way Nigel liked
it.

A headache had begun behind her eyes. It had
been there since she’d woken. Having spent an uncomfortable night
with Nigel snoring on top of her, she’d barely managed to doze
between bouts of consciousness where she’d gone through her plans
to leave—over and over. Now the sun was up and the birds were
singing. Soon it would be time to put her plan into action. The
thought made her tense. Nausea swirled in her stomach.

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me? I’m going
to be late for my rounds,” Nigel grumbled by way of greeting.