Chapter 3

The floor was a total mess.

BBQ pork rolled onto the carpet, fish soup splattered all over David, and golden fried meatballs went bouncing everywhere.

Mary jumped up in shock, anxiously checking her jewelry bracelet to see if it had gotten greasy. "She's lost her mind. This is rebellion. I can't take this anymore."

Ethan let out a loud wail, dropping his tablet, which hit the floor with a thud.

David's face turned bright red, veins bulging on his forehead as he shot to his feet, jabbing a finger right at my nose. "Emily, have you lost your damn mind?

"You're flipping the table on Christmas Eve? Do you really think I won't hit you?"

As David raised his hand, I didn't flinch. I stared him down, my eyes icy and unwavering. "Go on, and hit me.

"If you touch me today, I'll call the police, get a medical report for assault, and make sure everyone at your company knows their sales manager David is a wife-beater."

David's hand froze in midair, trembling with anger, but in the end, he didn't have the guts to actually hit me.

He cared more about his image than anything else; nothing freaked him out more than the thought of messing up his career.

I let out a cold laugh and turned to walk into the bedroom.

Behind me, Mary wailed, "Such bad luck. Why did my son marry such a troublemaker? David, kick her out. Get her out of here for good."

David roared from the living room, "Emily, if you dare walk out that door today, don't think about coming back.

"Let's see how you survive without this family. You don't have a roof over your head."

I didn't bother to respond to their shouting.

Once I got to the bedroom, I pulled out the suitcase that had been gathering dust for ages.

When I opened the closet, it was stuffed with David's suits and shirts, and shoved into the corner were a few old clothes of mine from years ago.

I grabbed a few things at random and stuffed them into the suitcase, then picked up my passport and phone.

As for everything I'd bought for this family over the years, I didn't take a single thing.

When I walked out of the bedroom, David was crouched on the floor, trying to calm Ethan, who was bawling his eyes out, while Mary was picking up the shrimp from the floor, looking like she was about to cry over every single one.

When David saw me dragging my suitcase out, he let out a cold snort. "Who are you putting on a show for? You've got no money, no job. Where do you think you're going?

"If you walk out that door today, you will regret it. Even if you come crawling back begging me tomorrow, I won't let you in."

I walked to the door, slipped on my shoes, and took one last look at this suffocating house.

The air was thick with the greasy smell of food and the stink of people's rotten souls.

"David, remember what you said," I said. "Let's see if you're still so tough when you're the one cleaning up after Samuel later."

With that, I slammed the security door shut.

That single slam shut out that sickening house for good, locking it behind me.

The motion-sensor lights in the hallway flickered on and off.

Outside, the wind howled, and snow swirled through the air.

I dragged my suitcase down the empty street, the cold wind cutting into my face like knives.

But I didn't feel the cold at all.

Instead, I felt a surge of warmth and a sense of liberation I'd never experienced before.

That was the taste of freedom.

My phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from my bestie, Sophie Martin. [Merry Christmas Eve, babe. What are you up to tonight?]

I stared at the screen, and finally, the tears I'd been holding back started to fall.

With trembling fingers, I typed back: [Sophie, I ran away from home. I fired David.]

*****

It was tough to find an available hotel room on Christmas Eve.

I dragged my suitcase for two blocks before finally scoring literally the last room left at a cheap hotel.

The room was tiny with only a bed and a table, but at least it was clean.

I flopped onto the bed, my body feeling like it was drowning in exhaustion, but my mind was wide awake.

My phone started buzzing like crazy.

All the messages were from David.

David: [Emily, you've really got some nerve, huh, making the whole family a laughingstock on Christmas Eve?

[Get your ass back here and clean up the mess. Dad needs water.

[Ethan's hungry. Where the hell are you?

[Come on, it was merely a joke. Why are you blowing this out of proportion?]

Looking at those messages, I felt sick to my stomach.

A joke? So stomping all over my dignity was a joke? So treating everything I did like it was worthless was a joke?

I blocked David on WhatsApp, and while I was at it, I muted Mary and that so-called loving family group chat too.

Finally, I had some peace.

I dug through my bag and pulled out the only bank card that was truly mine after five years.

There were only 600 dollars in it.

I'd been scraping together every last cent from the grocery budget, saving up for David's birthday present.

Now, it was all the startup cash I had.