Chapter 6

Tara's POV

He wanted his wife to wait on his mistress.

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

I stood up slowly.

"Okay." My voice was quiet.

Gordon exhaled. He probably took it as surrender.

For the next few days, I played the part. I cooked three meals a day on schedule. I kept the house running without complaint.

Mandy found every opportunity to make it harder.

"This soup is over-seasoned. Did you do that on purpose?"

"These shirts aren't properly ironed. Can you not manage even the simplest things?"

Every time Mandy found fault, Gordon turned it back on me without hesitation.

I didn't argue. I just redid whatever needed redoing and said nothing.

Because I was almost out of time.

The progress on my identity erasure had reached ninety-nine percent.

Three days left.

That night, a heavy rain moved in over the city.

Mandy was watching television in the living room when she suddenly clutched her chest and cried out. "Gordon, I can't breathe. It hurts."

Gordon came running out of the study, face drained of color. He scooped her up. "Hang on. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

He moved fast toward the door. As he passed me, he threw back one cold sentence. "If anything happens to her, you'll answer for it."

The door slammed. The house went silent.

I stood there and listened to the rain, and let the corner of my mouth curl.

Gordon didn't come home the next day.

Or the day after.

Then Oliver called.

"Tara, get to St. John's Hospital. Gordon ran a red light picking up Mandy's prescription. He's in emergency now."

I held the phone and said nothing for a long moment.

"He's not going to die." My voice was the same tone I would use to comment on the weather.

Oliver went silent. Then he came back sharp with anger. "Are you serious right now? He has always been there for you. He is in the ER and that's what you have to say?"

"Really?" I let out a quiet sound. "Whose name is in that spouse field again?"

The line went dead.

I hung up.

I walked to the bedroom and pulled out a small overnight bag from the closet.

Inside were a few changes of clothes, my passport, and my visa.

Everything Gordon had ever given me, the jewelry, the designer bags, the couture, I left it all where it sat.

I went to the vanity and pulled open the top drawer. Inside was the marriage certificate I had kept for three years, folded carefully, as if it had ever meant anything.

I found a pair of scissors and cut it in half.

One half I left on the vanity. The other half went into the trash.

I took out my phone, opened the browser, and went to the identity erasure portal.

I pressed the button.

Confirmed.

Your identity has been successfully deleted.

When those words appeared on the screen, I breathed out, slowly and completely, for the first time in what felt like years.

From this moment on, Tara no longer existed anywhere in this world.

I picked up my bag, walked to the front door, and stopped.

The rain had stopped while I wasn't paying attention. The air outside carried the smell of wet earth and something clean.

I looked back one last time at the place that had held me captive for five years.

I felt nothing.

I pushed the door open and walked out.