I Won’t Save You Again

Evelyn's POV

“You gave Clara a key to our apartment?”

Owen was having breakfast when I entered the kitchen. Clara's handbag sat on a chair, with her shoes beneath it. Beside the handbag lay a spare key attached to Owen's blue keyring.

“She stayed because it was late,” he replied. “You were already asleep.”

“Then why didn't you tell me she was here?”

“Because I knew you'd make a scene.”

Clara came out of the guest room wearing my dressing gown. She smiled when she saw me.

“I spilled something on my clothes last night,” she explained. “Owen said you wouldn't mind.”

“That gown was a gift from my aunt. Why didn't you go home after changing?”

“It was nearly midnight. Owen didn't want me travelling alone.”

“Then he could have called you a taxi.”

Clara looked at Owen, who set down his cup.

“She's our friend, Evelyn. Do you have to embarrass her over a piece of clothing?”

I remembered Owen holding Clara outside the settlement gate while the guards dragged me toward Meridian's truck. He'd refused to help me then, yet he was defending her now.

“Clara can wear her own clothes home,” I said. “And I want the spare key returned.”

“I didn't realize staying here would upset you this much,” Clara replied.

“Neither did I, until I found out from your handbag.”

She changed into her clothes and left the key on the counter before leaving.

Owen turned to me. “You're making our home unbearable.”

“Then explain why Clara needs a key when I'm not here.”

“She helps me with the business. You used to trust us.”

“I also used to lend your business money without seeing a contract. That's changing.”

He showed me a message from the Westhaven seller.

“The deposit is due today. If we lose this property, it'll be because you've decided to punish me.”

“Show me the purchase agreement and proof that the seller owns it.”

“I already sent you the listing.”

“A listing isn't a purchase agreement, Owen.”

He snatched his phone back. “You want me to fail. After everything I've done for this marriage, that's what you want.”

I picked up my bag and left for work rather than continue arguing.

At the municipal logistics office, I arranged replacement oxygen fittings for a hospital and found another supplier for a delayed shipment affecting three clinics.

I remembered how quickly hospitals had stopped functioning during the prolonged blackouts. Patients had died when electricity and essential supplies became unavailable.

During lunch, I called my bank to revoke Owen's delegated access to my individual accounts. After completing the verification, I requested copies of the outstanding loan records.

I also booked a consultation with a family and property attorney about the loans and assets held in my name.

After work, I bought water purification tablets, a first-aid kit, and battery packs. Inside my parked car, I stored them in the inventory and retrieved one battery pack to check its condition.

The display still showed twenty cubic metres as the total capacity, with the available space changing whenever I stored or removed something.

I didn't know whether the inventory could preserve food, so I would concentrate on supplies I knew how to use.

My savings were limited, and Owen still owed me money. I listed my second car for sale and contacted a broker about equipment from my abandoned delivery business.

Clara called while I was waiting in traffic.

“Owen says you removed his access to your accounts. What are you doing, Evelyn?”

“I changed the permissions on accounts in my name.”

“He's your husband. You can't keep treating him like a stranger.”

“Then he should stop sending you to argue with me about our money.”

“You used to be kinder,” she replied.

I remembered caring for her when she was ill at the settlement, giving her medicine I'd saved for myself. Later, she'd stood beside Owen while he handed me over to Meridian.

“I need to concentrate on driving, Clara. Goodbye.”

When I reached home, Owen was waiting in the living room with a bank notification open on his phone.

“You removed my authorization without telling me?”

“I asked you for the Westhaven documents yesterday. You still haven't provided them.”

“That's not an answer.”

I placed a list of six advances I'd made to his business in front of him.

“You've repaid part of one advance. Where did the rest of the money go?”

He looked at the figures and pushed the paper away.

“Clara says you've been acting strangely. Are you seeing somebody?”

He'd allowed Clara to sleep in our apartment and wear my clothes, yet he was accusing me without evidence.

“No, Owen. I'm trying to understand our finances.”

“Are you planning to leave me?”

“I've arranged legal advice. I'll decide what to do after reviewing the records.”

“So you're going to let a stranger interfere in our marriage?”

“I wouldn't need advice if you would answer my questions.”

He left without another word.

After dinner, I opened the city flood maps on my laptop. In my previous life, extreme heat and blackouts had come first. Months later, heavy storms had flooded low-lying districts and destroyed several shelters.

I marked the flooded roads and compared warehouses around Greyhaven. I needed somewhere with reliable access, storage space, and protection against different disasters.

Ridgeway Depot caught my attention. It stood on higher ground, with service roads leading toward the northern districts. Families had sheltered there during the first winter, although its water pump eventually failed.

I wrote down the address to investigate later.

My phone reminded me of Clara's Friday dinner invitation. I deleted it.

Owen returned while I was comparing the maps. He placed my phone, which I'd left on the kitchen counter, beside my laptop.

“Your attorney sent you an appointment confirmation,” he said.

The message was open, displaying the law firm's name and consultation details.

“Why were you going through my phone?”

“That's what you're worried about? You've stopped giving me money, removed my access to your accounts, and now you're meeting a family attorney?”

“I already told you I was getting legal advice.”

He pointed at the message.

“Then why does your appointment say you're seeking advice about divorce and the division of marital assets?”