up, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. He heard the shower turn on.
Nick knew his wife probably wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, but as long as she didn’t keep him awake, he didn’t care. As he went through the halls, locking up their belongings and rooms, he couldn’t help but to feel angry with Nora, for not understanding that in all the time he’d been married to her, the one time he didn’t answer his phone all day had been in the face of a real crisis. She didn’t understand how hard he worked for her, or for their family. The house in essence had been from his own two hands, from his money.
As he passed the dining room, he realized the intruders had gone. They had seemed to have taken up residence in the basement for now. That would change tomorrow, when he got them thrown out.
Later that night, Nora lay on her side of the bed in the darkness, with all sorts of thoughts going through her mind. Memories flashed through her thoughts like water flowing in and out as she drifted in and out of sleep. Her parents were middle-class, hardworking citizens. By the time she had met Nick, they had worked their way up from the bottom and lived comfortably. Nick hadn’t had much money when she met him, but she knew he was a hard worker and wanted to give him a chance. Her parents, especially her mother, had warned her against dating him, and even ultimately marrying him.
“A workaholic will always put you last,” she said, but back then Nora had been too stupid and too stubborn to listen to her. “Honey, if you marry that man, you’ll never be happy, I guarantee it.”
“But once he gets enough money, he’ll stop working and we can have a family,” Nora had replied, her thoughts so wrapped up in the man who was Nicholas Donnelly, that she had no mind for logic.
Her mother had shaken her head sadly. Even as she aged, she was always a good-looking woman who kept her blonde hair silky-smooth. To the last of her days, in a nursing home diagnosed with dementia, Nora had always thought her mother kept herself in perfect condition, even inadvertently.
“A man like that will always hide in his work,” she had said. “And who’s to say you’ll ever have enough money, dear? Self-publishing—that can’t be a lucrative business, can’t it? You need someone with more stability, someone who can handle their own.”
Nora tore herself away from the memory, feeling Nick crawl into bed beside her without saying a word or touching her, as was their custom. They had gotten the money, all right, but at what cost? He had always put her second, and he couldn’t handle his own—not his own house, not his own children, not even his own wardrobe half the time.
Yes, maybe her parents had been right all along about Nick; after all, how could he have allowed this situation to happen?
Their lawyer would resolve everything tomorrow, though, of that she was sure. Within a half an hour, she had drifted into a peaceful dream with all thoughts of the day’s trauma gone out of her mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nick woke up to a scream on the level below their room. He jumped up, looking over to where Nora had slept all night. Her blonde curls stuck up over the comforter, and she stirred slightly. The scream hadn’t been from her. But he knew he had heard it; surely he hadn’t dreamed up a sound like that.
“Nora,” he hissed, shaking her.
She groaned, oblivious of the chaos below. He had always envied how well she slept; while he tossed and turned all night, she could sleep through anything, at any time, especially with the aid of her prescription sleeping pills that the doctor claimed she needed. Good for her, he supposed. Waking her up now would only invite her criticisms, and he’d had enough of those last night.
He drew on a bathrobe, grabbing his jackknife out of the drawer. A hell of a way to wake up--to an ear-piercing scream. At least his migraine had
Nick knew his wife probably wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, but as long as she didn’t keep him awake, he didn’t care. As he went through the halls, locking up their belongings and rooms, he couldn’t help but to feel angry with Nora, for not understanding that in all the time he’d been married to her, the one time he didn’t answer his phone all day had been in the face of a real crisis. She didn’t understand how hard he worked for her, or for their family. The house in essence had been from his own two hands, from his money.
As he passed the dining room, he realized the intruders had gone. They had seemed to have taken up residence in the basement for now. That would change tomorrow, when he got them thrown out.
Later that night, Nora lay on her side of the bed in the darkness, with all sorts of thoughts going through her mind. Memories flashed through her thoughts like water flowing in and out as she drifted in and out of sleep. Her parents were middle-class, hardworking citizens. By the time she had met Nick, they had worked their way up from the bottom and lived comfortably. Nick hadn’t had much money when she met him, but she knew he was a hard worker and wanted to give him a chance. Her parents, especially her mother, had warned her against dating him, and even ultimately marrying him.
“A workaholic will always put you last,” she said, but back then Nora had been too stupid and too stubborn to listen to her. “Honey, if you marry that man, you’ll never be happy, I guarantee it.”
“But once he gets enough money, he’ll stop working and we can have a family,” Nora had replied, her thoughts so wrapped up in the man who was Nicholas Donnelly, that she had no mind for logic.
Her mother had shaken her head sadly. Even as she aged, she was always a good-looking woman who kept her blonde hair silky-smooth. To the last of her days, in a nursing home diagnosed with dementia, Nora had always thought her mother kept herself in perfect condition, even inadvertently.
“A man like that will always hide in his work,” she had said. “And who’s to say you’ll ever have enough money, dear? Self-publishing—that can’t be a lucrative business, can’t it? You need someone with more stability, someone who can handle their own.”
Nora tore herself away from the memory, feeling Nick crawl into bed beside her without saying a word or touching her, as was their custom. They had gotten the money, all right, but at what cost? He had always put her second, and he couldn’t handle his own—not his own house, not his own children, not even his own wardrobe half the time.
Yes, maybe her parents had been right all along about Nick; after all, how could he have allowed this situation to happen?
Their lawyer would resolve everything tomorrow, though, of that she was sure. Within a half an hour, she had drifted into a peaceful dream with all thoughts of the day’s trauma gone out of her mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nick woke up to a scream on the level below their room. He jumped up, looking over to where Nora had slept all night. Her blonde curls stuck up over the comforter, and she stirred slightly. The scream hadn’t been from her. But he knew he had heard it; surely he hadn’t dreamed up a sound like that.
“Nora,” he hissed, shaking her.
She groaned, oblivious of the chaos below. He had always envied how well she slept; while he tossed and turned all night, she could sleep through anything, at any time, especially with the aid of her prescription sleeping pills that the doctor claimed she needed. Good for her, he supposed. Waking her up now would only invite her criticisms, and he’d had enough of those last night.
He drew on a bathrobe, grabbing his jackknife out of the drawer. A hell of a way to wake up--to an ear-piercing scream. At least his migraine had
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