My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
“He grabbed the tablet.”
Evan muttered, “Vanessa.”
“He told me if I walked out, we were done. I said good.”
Her voice shook harder now.
“I was halfway down the stairs when he grabbed my arm.”
She looked at me.
“I fell.”
Someone behind me gasped.
I did not turn around.
“How far?”
“Almost an entire flight.”
I looked at Evan.
He was staring at the ground.
“She slipped.”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“That’s what you told the paramedics.”
“You were pulling away.”
“Because you grabbed me.”
“You were hysterical.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That word.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Hysterical. Crazy. Unstable. Possessive. Those were his favorite words whenever I stopped agreeing with him.”
A memory surfaced so suddenly that I felt dizzy.
Six months earlier, Evan and I had argued about finances.
I wanted to keep my own savings account after marriage.
He told me joint accounts made more sense.
