Chapter 3: The person I once loved

May's POV

He opened the wallet and pulled out the money inside, counting the bills with an expression that grew uglier with every passing second. When he finished, he stared at me in disbelief.

"Fifty dollars?" he demanded. "That's all you've got?"

I lowered my head. Well, excuse me, Your Majesty. I didn't realize I was supposed to rob a bank between teaching preschoolers and helping children with their homework.

"That's all I earned from tutoring today," I replied quietly. "The preschool hasn't paid me yet."

It wasn't entirely a lie. I'd earned money from tutoring. I just hadn't earned all the money James thought I had. The rest was safely tucked inside the inner pocket of my jacket. The money that man had given me earlier.

My stomach twisted at the thought. I hated where it had come from. I hated how the memory of his cold gaze still made me feel small. But that money was supposed to help me pay my tuition. And I wasn't about to let James gamble it away.

He examined the bills once more before clicking his tongue in disgust. "I let you work all day, and this is what you bring home? Fifty fucking dollars?" He shook his head. "Useless bitch."

I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. Inside, I was screaming. Yes, James. I'm useless. I'm lazy. I'm a terrible wife.

Unfortunately, my imaginary speech wasn't going to pay my tuition. So I kept my mouth shut.

James shoved the money into his pocket before staggering toward the coat hanger. "I'm going out."

I blinked. He was going out? At this hour? To do what? Gamble away the fifty dollars he'd just stolen from me before spending the rest of the night drinking himself into oblivion? Of course. Why wait until tomorrow when you can ruin your life today?

I almost laughed. Almost.

"Did you hear me?" he snapped, turning toward me.

"Yes."

"Then why the fuck are you standing there like an idiot?"

"I'm sorry."

The words slipped out automatically. I hated how easily they came now. Sorry for speaking. Sorry for working. Sorry for coming home late. Sorry for things I hadn't even done. Sometimes, I wondered whether I'd eventually apologize for breathing too loudly.

James grabbed his coat and headed for the door. Without another word, he stormed out, slamming it so hard that the walls seemed to tremble.

Silence settled over the apartment. For several seconds, I remained on the floor, listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway. Only when I was certain he wasn't coming back did I allow myself to breathe properly.

"Finally."

My voice sounded strange in the empty room. I pushed myself up, wincing as the pain in my hip reminded me of my unfortunate encounter with the coffee table. Wonderful. Another bruise to add to my growing collection.

I crouched down and began gathering my belongings, putting everything back into my bag. When I reached for my wallet, I remembered the money hidden in my jacket. Quickly, I slipped my hand into the inner pocket and felt the familiar edges of the bills. Still there. Thank God.

I pulled them out just long enough to make sure none were missing before tucking them away again. For a moment, I simply stared at the money. It wasn't enough to solve all my problems. It wouldn't magically make my marriage better, erase my bruises, or free me from the life I'd somehow found myself living.

But it was a start. A small, pathetic start. And right now, I'd take whatever I could get.

The man who'd given me the money might have been an arrogant, insufferable bastard, but at least he had paid me what we'd agreed on. James, on the other hand, seemed to believe that being my husband entitled him to everything I earned. My money. My time. My freedom.

Apparently, the only thing he didn't want was the responsibility of treating me like a human being.

I shoved the money back into my pocket and finished gathering my belongings. Then I walked toward the balcony.

The night air greeted me as I stepped outside, cool against my heated skin. Above me, the sky stretched endlessly, scattered with tiny stars that twinkled against the darkness. For once, everything was quiet. No shouting. No threats.

Just the soft breeze and the distant sounds of traffic.

I leaned against the railing and tilted my head back. Beautiful. The sky was beautiful tonight. It was strange how something so simple could make me feel a little less suffocated.

I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack and lighter. James would have a complete meltdown if he discovered I smoked. He'd probably lecture me about how a respectable wife should behave, then demand to know what kind of woman needed cigarettes to get through the day.

The irony was almost amusing. He could drink until he could barely stand, gamble away money we needed, and come home smelling like a broken distillery. But me? I wasn't allowed to have a single bad habit.

I took a cigarette from the pack, placed it between my lips, and lit it. The small flame flickered briefly before disappearing. I inhaled slowly, letting the smoke fill my lungs before releasing it into the night.

I knew smoking wasn't good for me. But neither was my marriage, and that hadn't stopped me from staying.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Cheers to terrible life choices.

I took another drag and watched the smoke drift away. For a little while, I allowed myself to forget about the man who had just left our apartment. I forgot about the tuition fees I needed to pay, the bills waiting to be settled, and the lies I told every day just to keep my life from falling apart.

Most importantly, I tried to forget that I had once loved James Anderson.

Because he hadn't always been like this.