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  “I know. I’m going to tell him tonight after the barbecue.”

  “Good.”

  Leaning in, I gave Miley a hug. “I love you. You’ve been like the sister I never had.”

  Chapter 11

  Arriving at the barbecue with a bag of chips in one hand and a twelve-pack of soda in the other, I saw Diego manning the barbecue as people crowded the back yard. Guess this is a bigger barbecue than I anticipated. Seeing me, he pointed me out to whom I suspected was his wife, Kathy. She waved and smiled as she came my direction.

  “So you’re Amy,” she said, grabbing the bag of chips.

  “Yep. Kathy, I take it?”

  She nodded. “We can put these inside,” she said, leading me over to the house and up the back steps. Coming inside to the kitchen, I set the soda down on the table.

  “How long have you and Diego been married?” I asked.

  “Fifteen years this August.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I said, “Wow. That’s awesome.”

  “Are you dating anyone?” she asked, leaning against the counter for support. Kathy didn’t wait even a minute to go straight to the reason she threw together the barbecue. It was kind of strange but a tad bit funny that she would think Miley or I would be interested in Diego. He was a cute man, but he was older and married, two things that were deal breakers to any decent person. There was no way of knowing Kathy’s reasons. Maybe they had issues in the past that I didn’t know about.

  “Dating? Um . . . yeah. No. I don’t really know what it is right now. I invited him to the barbecue, though.” Fumbling with my words, I felt embarrassed. Not knowing how to define what Charlie and I had made me feel uncomfortable. We had kissed already a few different times and shared parts of our life we didn’t really share with just anyone. “I think we’re together. It’s still new.”

  Kathy smiled and went over to the fridge. Pulling out a container of Hawaiian punch and a bottle of lemon-lime soda, she brought them over to the table. “Those early parts of the relationship are so . . . electric, aren’t they? It’s not like the hum-drum of marriage at all.”

  “Yeah. I was married once. It’s different, that’s for sure.”

  She furrowed an eyebrow as she poured the punch into a clear bowl on the table. “Diego never mentioned you were married before.”

  My heart took a freefall from what felt like a cliff. I had forgotten the conversation Diego and I had about a month after my arrival to Newport. He had asked if I was ever married because of a tan line along my finger. I lied, claiming it was just a ring a boyfriend gave me. I was more protective back then of my past. Thinking quickly in the moment with Kathy, I found an excuse that would work in more ways than one. I said, “I don’t tell Diego everything, Kathy. He’s just the line cook where I work.”

  Her smile widened with my words. I was glad to ease her insecurities. Turning back to the sliding glass door, I about jumped when I saw John out in the backyard chatting Mayor Laney’s ear up. What’s he doing here? The mayor let out a hearty laugh and grabbed his belly. Ugh, he’s laying it on thick. That was John, always rubbing elbows and making everyone around him fall in love with him. It came more natural to him than breathing did. No matter the occasion or the event, he’d have people eating out of the palm of his hand. My theory on it was that John hated himself so much that if he could convince a room full of people to love him, maybe that, in turn, would help him love himself.

  “Amy?” Kathy said, breaking my concentration.

  “What?” I asked, turning to her.

  “I asked how the car was working for you.”

  I nodded. “Oh, it’s great. I’ve had zero problems with it.” Pointing out the sliding glass door, I continued, “I’m going to go mingle, I think.”

  “Could you help me with something first?” she asked, pointing to the counter. Looking over, I saw tomatoes and lettuce sitting on a cutting board. “I need that all sliced and chopped for the burgers.”

  Smiling, I reluctantly said, “Sure.”

  “Thanks,” she replied and went into the living room. Heading over to the counter, I picked up the knife and began slicing a tomato. There was a window right in front of me, so every few cuts, I’d glance up and locate John out in the yard. Why does he have to be here? With John being at the barbecue, things could become tense and awkward as soon as Charlie arrived. The best I could do was make sure to get to Charlie before John did.

  Slice.

  The blade cut through my index finger, sending gobs of blood oozing out. “Ah!” I shouted, dropping the blade and hurrying a few paces over to the sink. Glancing over my shoulder, I called out to Kathy, “Could you get me a Band-Aid? I cut myself.”

  “Okay . . .” Her tone made me feel stupid. It was an accident, lady, I thought to myself.

  Letting the water rush over the cut, I glanced over and saw a spot of blood on the counter. Should have paid better attention. Kathy soon came in with a Band-Aid and helped me get it bandaged up and the counter cleaned. “Sorry about that,” I said, returning back to the cutting board. Peering out the window, I couldn’t see John.

  Kathy shook her head and smiled at me as she came over. Taking the blade from my hand, she said, “It’s okay. I’ll take care of this. Run along outside and mingle.”

  Should have cut myself in the beginning, I thought. Leaving through the sliding glass door, I surveyed the yard and the roughly two dozen faces that were on the lawn. Where did he go? Wait . . . Pulling my cellphone from my pocket, I saw it was 7:45pm, fifteen minutes past when Charlie was supposed to be there. No, no, no! Hurrying toward the corner of the house, I was stopped by Emma.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?” she asked.

  “I can’t talk right now,” I replied. Side-stepping her, I continued to the corner.

  Pieces of my heart crumbled as I rounded the corner and saw Charlie walking away from a conversation with John. If Satan had a doppelgänger, I was convinced John was his. How could a man who claims to love me seek to destroy everything I care about? How could one person be so sadistic?

  “What did you say to him?” My words were sharp as I approached John and shoved him backward. There was no threat of him retaliating. There were too many witnesses.

  He laughed. “Just told him who you actually were. Like your real name, for starters. You’ve been living a lie with these people.”

  “How did you even know who he was?”

  John broke out in song. “Every step you take, every move you make, I’ll be watching you!” He stopped singing and shook his head. “I saw your little passion fest down at Riverfront Park with him the other day.”

  Pushing past John, I ran down the driveway and out to the front to see Charlie crossing the street over to his car. “Charlie!” I called out.

  He turned back to me for a moment and then opened his car door.

  Sprinting, I kicked gravel up in the driveway as I made my way out to the road. “Please.”

  He stopped and looked back at me like he didn’t even know who I was. His eyes glistened, and the hurt I saw stung. Coming across the road the rest of the way, I arrived over to him. When I reached for his hand, he pulled it away. “Don’t, Amy. Well, I mean . . . Serenah?”

  “I was going to tell you.” Tears welled in my eyes as I felt every part of my life shatter into little shards of glass.

  He let out a sarcastic laugh. “When did you plan on telling me that you’re married and have a husband?”

  “Tonight. You don’t understand. John is a bad man, Charlie.”

  “You’re right. I don’t understand. You had a baby, a husband and a whole other life. I don’t know you. I didn’t even know your real name.”

  “You might have known me by a different name and nothing of my past, but what we had was real. The way we feel about each other—”

  “The way I felt about you was based on concrete information.” He peered back toward Diego’s house and continued, “I don’t want to come between a husband and
wife. That isn’t right.” He went to get into his car, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Why do you think I ran across the country and changed my name, Charlie? You think I just didn’t like the guy? It wasn’t that simple.”

  He looked at me and shrugged. “Telling the truth is always simple.”

  “I never lied.”

  Charlie got in his car and shut the door. Turning the key over, he rolled the window down and said, “Goodbye, whoever you are.”

  The taillights of his car blurred in my vision as tears rolled from my eyes and onto my cheeks. My heart was breaking. The twisted, mangled mess of emotion all stemmed from one source—John. I felt as if he would follow me to the ends of the earth, making sure I’d never be happy and always destroying any good that would come into my life.

  “Serenah, doll,” John called out to me from the edge of the driveway of Diego’s house. “Why don’t you come back over here and let me introduce you to the Mayor? He’s going to let me head the reconstruction project on City Hall.” John’s voice in that moment set me ablaze. It was like hot coals being raked over my open wounds. Turning to face him as he stood on the other side of the street, I saw a few of the locals around him, but I didn’t care—I charged him.

  I laid a punch into his face for everything he had done. The marriage, the beatings, the stress that led me to miscarry, and now, Charlie. He didn’t dodge my attack. Instead, he let me hit him and send him crashing to the driveway, spilling the drink in his hand. Frank and Sue were a few paces back and saw it. They shook their heads in disappointment at me. They didn’t understand. The locals who stood by his side were Jackie and Monty, who ran the convenience store on Main Street. Monty helped John to his feet, and Jackie stepped between me and John as I panted heavily, trying to catch my breath.

  “You can’t hit people because you don’t like them. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Jackie asked. She looked mad. So did Monty. I was the bad guy in all their minds.

  Monty let go of John’s arm and added, “Obviously, she was taught it was okay to lie too. Right, Serenah?”

  Diego approached with a somber expression on his face. “I think it’s best you go.”

  Nodding my head, I agreed. Not because I was misbehaving, but because John had already managed to get everybody on his side. Turning around, I headed to my car to leave. Unbelievable. As I felt eyes on my back, my blood boiled inside. As I drove, I began crying out to the Lord to help me, save me and make me whole again. I needed a miracle, now more than ever, if I was going to survive.

  Chapter 12

  Avoiding Jody’s phone calls, knowing John was most likely staying there, I kept a low profile for weeks following the barbecue. The Monday after the barbecue, I turned in a petition for divorce against John. There wasn’t a point in putting it off now, since John knew where I lived and an address wouldn’t give me away anymore. The damage done at the barbecue echoed through my entire life. Charlie vanished and wasn’t coming into the diner anymore, and Emma stopped coming in too. I had tried to get ahold of her a few times, but her home phone always went to voicemail. Diego kept to himself in the back, only exchanging dialogue when it was vital for the job. Even Frank and Sue didn’t want to chat anymore when they came in for their meatloaf and potatoes. He was turning everybody in town against me, and I was left feeling alone and isolated. Joe even kept his distance and conversation to a minimum when he finally came back to fix my roof last week. Miley was the only one who was there for me, but she had left to Texas to go see her sickly father, so it was only phone calls here and there that got me through the weeks.

  I’d see John randomly around town, sweet talking the locals, but I made sure to avoid him at all costs. I even abandoned a bag of groceries one day to avoid him. He was busy with the town I cared about. My biggest regret was how easy I’d made it for him. With my fake name and phony story, he was able to convince everybody I was just a washed-up loser who ran away from him. He painted a story for the whole town about how I only ran away because I didn’t like him and how he found me to bring me back home. He claimed love was what brought him here to Newport, and love would take me back with him. John had them right where he wanted them. Before she had left to Texas, Miley told me that John told her that he’d be willing to stay in Newport if that meant being with me. When she asked me about why he would do this, I simply replied, ‘Because he can. He has the time and money to do whatever he feels like.’

  It had been three weeks since the barbecue, and I was working a morning shift on a Wednesday at Dixie’s when the policeman, Brody Jenkins, the guy Miley had dated a few months back, walked into the diner. He surveyed the restaurant and then came to me once he spotted me near the computer.

  “These are for you, Serenah,” he said, emotionless in his tone.

  “He got to you too?” I asked, taking the papers from him.

  “John’s a good guy. Everybody thinks you should give him a chance.”

  I laughed as I shook my head. “You don’t even know him, Brody.” My eyes looked down to see the court papers for the divorce from John. My eyes welled with tears of joy as I saw it was finally coming to fruition. Ninety days from that moment, I’d be divorced from John, and that chapter of my life would be officially over. Wiping my eyes, I put the papers in my purse below the computer. “Thanks for bringing them by.”

  He forced a half-smile and said, “You’re welcome. Think about John, please.” He took his leave and I returned to waiting tables.

  Enjoying a glass of wine as I celebrated victory with my only friend around—Milo—I sat out on the porch in my rocking chair. With the papers and glass of wine on the table beside me, I rocked gently in the chair as I petted Milo. “No more Mrs. Wollocks. Isn’t that great?” I asked Milo as I glanced down at him.

  He only continued to purr.

  “It’s good. Even though John’s ruined everything I’ve been working toward. It’s a good thing the divorce is done.” Scooting Milo off my lap, I stood up, picked up my glass of wine, and walked over to the railing. It was unpainted but sturdy. I leaned against it and looked up to the stars. Praying, I asked God to bring me wisdom about whether I should just pack everything up and move away from Newport. Closing my eyes, I outstretched my arms over the railing and dropped my head in the gap between them and said, “Oh, God. Help me.

  “Decided on going back to God after you left me?” John said from the far end of the porch.

  Jerking my head up, I cocked it his way and glared. “You aren’t welcome here.”

  Rolling his eyes, he climbed up onto the porch and walked up beside me. Leaning his arms onto the railing, he continued as he looked out to the evening skies. “Had an interesting chat today with Brody. He uh . . . brought me some papers.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe you didn’t realize it when I left and tried to vanish without a trace, but I don’t want to be with you, John.”

  His jaw clenched as he stood up and turned toward me.

  I sensed the anger and turned away, heading quickly into my house. He followed. Pulling open the entry table door drawer, I couldn’t find the pepper spray I had put there.

  “You think I’m stupid? I got rid of your dumb spray.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “Looks like you got your roof repaired. By the way . . . how many men do you have wrapped around your finger?”

  “I don’t,” I said curtly as I thought about the bat in the coat closet nearby. Dashing across the floor to the closet, I yanked open the door.

  “Yeah, took that too.” He went over to the couch and sat down, crossing a leg over his other one. “Look, honey. I quit drinking, and I’m here to win you back.” He laughed. “You want to live in this dirty little town with your little friends? That’s fine. We can sell our house in Albany. I’m already moved into a month-to-month apartment over on Shirley Avenue, by the hospital.”

  “It’s not that easy, John.”

  “Why?” he asked, shaking his head as he uncrossed his legs and leaned for
ward with his hands out. Without a response from me, he stood up and approached me. Backing my steps up, I pressed up against the wall as he got inches from my face. Tilting his head, he asked, “Why’s it not that easy? The drinking was the problem, and it’s gone.”

  “It wasn’t just the drinking, John. It was the fact that you hit me.” My eyes peered into the kitchen as I thought about dashing into there to grab a knife.

  “I did it while drunk. I don’t drink anymore. Problem solved.” He shrugged.

  Ducking, I turned and headed into the kitchen. He gripped my wrist with a hand, and I shook it off. “You hit me when you were sober too. Right before I left.”

  He squinted and looked to ponder for a moment. I continued to head into the kitchen, but he grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back and up against the wall. He clutched my throat with his hand and pushed me against the wall, causing a picture frame to fall. “You’re not going to tell me how things are going to happen. This is my world! My rules!”

  “Hit me, John. It’s what you were always best at.”

  He did.

  The first punch landed directly into my jaw, the next one my eye. Falling to the ground, I curled up and began to cry as he kicked my ribs. “You forced me to do this! You could have had me back with ease, you stupid, stupid woman.” He stopped after a few more kicks, cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie. Turning, he walked out of my house as Milo walked in from the porch. My heart raced as I curled tighter into a ball on the floor. Crying out to the Lord, I prayed he’d help me in my time of need.

  “Please, Lord, take this pain from me. Help me figure out what to do.” Closing my eyes, I felt Milo’s fur press up against my arm that was wrapped over my head. My pulse began to slow, and a comfort came to me that I could not describe if I tried. It wasn’t from a feline. No, the comfort was divine. Continuing to pray, I asked God for His will to be done and clarity to come to me. My life was not my own. I needed help.