Chapter 6
But Alex didn’t come back alone.
He had two kids with him, probably picked up from kindergarten on his way back from work.
The boy, around five or six years old, was David Wood, Amelie’s son.
And the little girl, four years old, could only be Eloise’s daughter, Chloe Hawkins.
The kid looked so much like me when I was little!
The moment the only man in the house walked in, both Susan and Amelie lit up like they’d seen salvation.
They dropped the mop and broom, hiding behind him and rushing to tattle.
“Alex, that crazy bitch tried to kill me today! She nearly drove me into the grave!”
“Alex, your wife forced me to eat something worse than dog shit! You’ve got to teach her a lesson!”
Alex’s face darkened.
He glared at me, lounging on the couch like an emperor, while I munched on snacks with legs crossed.
“Eloise Hawkins! It seems you didn’t learn your lesson yesterday. Do you need another beating?”
He rolled up his sleeves, clearly trying to intimidate me.
I spat a peanut shell onto the floor with a sharp ptoo.
“So you’re my fucking husband?”
I’d imagined wife–beaters as hulking brutes with towering frames.
But this guy? He was barely half a head taller than
1 my five–foot–three self.
Scrawny, weaselly, the kind of man who could only claw back his fragile masculinity by hitting women.
What a disappointment.
He looked more like a collectible figurine than a man. It felt like smacking around a doll to fight with him later.
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