Chapter 2
It was two in the morning when David rolled over in bed.
"You still awake?" he asked.
"Can't sleep," I replied.
He was quiet for a moment. "You know how my mom is. Let her make a fuss for a couple days. She'll get over it."
"What if she really brings your aunt here?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Eight years, and every single time, that was all he ever said.
I got married at twenty-four, two years out of college, working as a copywriter at an ad agency. David was a coworker's introduction. He was honest, quiet, and holding down a steady government job.
Margaret moved in with us the first year we were married. Her excuse was helping with the baby.
She did help with the baby, but soon, the house felt more like hers than ours.
Everything had to go her way, from what was in the fridge, to which TV channel we watched, to whether the AC was on. She even dictated when I came home, what I wore, and what the baby ate.
And David?
"My mom's getting old, let her have her way," he'd said.
Let her have her way.
I'd been letting her have her way for eight years, until I turned thirty-two, and somehow, I went from a girl who used to laugh at everything to someone who didn't even remember how to cry out loud anymore.
Three months ago, I secretly interviewed for a new job.
It was a social media gig, starting at 2,700 dollars a month, and with bonuses, I could pull in over 3,300.
I didn't tell anyone.
This was my last backup plan.
If there was really no place for me in this family, I needed somewhere else to go.
Just before dawn, I heard Margaret on the phone in the living room. "Linda, I'll come get you in a couple of days. Don't be scared."
I closed my eyes.
The storm was coming.