Two espressos from George later and I was as ready as I was ever going to be to face a new week. Crossing the bridge into the city, I was shocked to see council workers with bolt cutters removing the padlocks. Despite the sadness I felt for all the genuine love represented there, I was thrilled, and a small chuckle bubbled out of me. If I’d been looking for a sign, surely that would’ve been it.

When I got to my desk, I slumped down in my chair and sighed. It was going to be a really long day and it had only just begun. As if sent to taunt me, the first email I saw was from Richard confirming he’d pick me up after work at seven for dinner with our socially acceptable married friends, Fraser and Stacy. Richard and Fraser worked together as financial advisers, and Stacy and I had gone to school together. I’d seen my mother’s tight smile and I could’ve sworn her blue eyes turned green when she found out Stacy was pregnant. I was happy for them, but I just didn’t want the same things at twenty-five. I didn’t want them with Richard at any age.

Thanks to my impossible workload, the day passed quickly, and at seven on the dot, Richard texted me. He was downstairs waiting. I shut my computer down and stared as the fading screen turned to black before gathering my things and heading to the lifts. I wanted nothing more than to just go home, change into my pyjamas and go to sleep with the covers over my head. Instead, I had to pull myself together and suck it up.

Richard was leaning against a ‘No parking’ pole, talking on the phone when I exited the building. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he appeared flustered and more worked up than I’d seen him before. I moved closer, intrigued.

“It’s all under control. I’ll take care of it.”

I presumed it was something to do with work, but it was unusual to see him rattled. He liked to be seen as the big man of the finance world, invincible and above everyone else. My career was of little consequence to him, and the only time he made any reference to it was with smutty secretary jokes. When he ended his phone call and looked up, he appeared startled to see me so close. His nervous expression disappeared and a mask came down, revealing smooth features and a fake smile. I could actually see it happening and I wondered if I’d just been oblivious to it before. Perhaps I didn’t know him any better than he knew me.

“Who was on the phone?” I asked without greeting him.

He looked guilty for some reason. “Oh, um, that was just a punter.” He took a few steps closer. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

If I’d known who was on the phone and that it was me being discussed, I might have pushed. I might have pushed so hard he would have hit the ground. Then I might have crushed his skull into the pavement, spilling his worthless brain matter into the gutter where it belonged.

“So, where are we having dinner?” I asked, happily changing the subject.

Chapter Eighteen

Juliette

Dinner was more excruciating than I’d expected. Stacy drivelled on and on about her pregnancy like she was the first woman ever to experience it. Intermingled with that riveting conversation topic, I also endured Richard and Fraser discussing the commissions they’d made that week. I could’ve sworn they licked their lips when they referred to their clients as ‘punters’ and the latest deals as ‘money for jam’. Considering my mother’s foundation was one of his major clients, it made me sick. Their attitudes were what gave financial advisers a bad name, and I was embarrassed I had just let their behaviour slide. I had an overused self-preservation mechanism. I heard words come from people’s mouths and my subconscious knew when to nod, smile or make a polite, innocuous query. But I had never really listened. Until now.

“Hey, Juliette. I have a new joke for you,” Richard said, gripping my thigh under the table when we were seated at dinner.

I cringed, pushing his hand away, knowing another bad secretary joke was the last thing I wanted to hear from his mouth at that point.

“Richard,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’d really appreciate you not belittling my job in front of our friends.”

He laughed and took another long swig of his wine, either oblivious to me or pretending he hadn’t heard.

Fraser and Stacy laughed nervously. I’d always just gone along with Richard’s jokes at my expense. I’d never stood up for myself before. Richard was too busy swigging his wine and laughing. My mind was flooded with memories of all the little things he’d said during our relationship. A little jab here and there, his pretentious behaviour in public and our absolute lack of chemistry. I shuddered, remembering his rude behaviour towards Leo at my mother’s Yarra Valley function. It all flooded in and I felt a rage welling in my gut.

Slurring slightly, he began. “A secretary was helping her new boss set up his computer—”

I slammed my hand down on the table and cut him off. “I told you I didn’t appreciate your rude jokes at my expense.”

Richard waved his hand at me dismissively. “Don’t be so sensitive, Juliette.”

My thoughts turned into words and they spilled out of my mouth before I had a chance to restrain them. “I was going to wait till later, but I want you to be sober enough to understand what I’m about to say.”

Richard put his wine glass down and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s up, my love?” His asinine tone grated on me. Patronising bastard.

I turned to Stacy and Fraser, who were sitting rigid like stunned mullets. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take one more second of this.” I turned back to Richard. “We need to talk.”

Without any obvious reaction good or bad, he wiped a few drops of wine from the edges of his lips with his linen napkin. He pushed back from the table and stood up. Leaning forward, he whispered in my ear, his wine-soaked breath making me flinch. “Don’t you dare make a scene in front of our friends, Juliette.” He gripped my arm so tightly I was confident he would leave a mark. “Let’s take this outside.” Without waiting for my agreement, he made our apologies to Stacy and Fraser then dragged me out of my seat, through the restaurant and out onto the footpath.

He didn’t stop directly outside, and I quickly found myself in the darkened confines of a deserted alleyway running between the next two buildings. A dirty grey rat scuttled off, scattering onion skins over the damp cobblestones.

“What the fuck was that about?” Richard asked, pushing me roughly—one hand pinned my left arm to the cold brick wall while the palm of his other hand pushed against my chest. “You need to cool off, and then you need to go back inside and apologise for embarrassing me.”

“Get your hands off me right now.” I spat the words out, overcome by the desire to end him on the spot. “This is over. We’re over. Do you get that? I don’t want you touching me again.”

He didn’t let me go. His grip tightened on my arm while his other hand moved up to my throat, squeezing momentarily before slowly moving down my neck and chest. I knew I could have him writhing on the floor in seconds, but I wanted to hear him acknowledge we were over first.

His sneer turned into a thin-lipped smile as his knuckles grazed my breasts. “We’re over when I say we’re over, Juliette. What happened to Mummy’s good little girl? You’re so pathetic.” He grabbed the hem of my skirt, wrenching it up.

Years of emotional abuse crashed down around me. He was right. My life was pathetic and I’d allowed others to steer my life choices. I was taking control though, and he was making it increasingly easy to be sure of my decision to end our relationship. I heard his snide words loud and clear, and they were making me mad.

I reefed my left hand out of his and pushed him hard in the chest, out of my personal space. “Get off me, you son of a bitch.”