“Did I ever cheat on you?” she snapped. “Did I?”

“Of course you didn’t,” he growled. “You barely knew how to part your legs.”

The calculated cruelty in his words shredded every tender memory they had shared—every tender moment she had thought they had shared—and the depth of his anger confounded her. She felt wounded and bloodied. Was she really that cold and inflexible? That unlovable?

No. She would not let him do this to her.

Pulling herself together, she thrust away the pain, took a step forward and stabbed at his chest. “Quit trying to justify what you did by tearing me down. I was the perfect wife. I was great in bed, I took all the right classes, and I worked out and kept my figure. I was patient, and I learned how to cook all the right things. I always put your career first, and for what? You are a goddamn waste of space, and I am done living a cliché.”

“Jesus, you two,” Russell growled, shouldering his blunt figure between them. “Will you quit burning down your lives in front of everybody and shut the fuck up?”

Awareness pierced the anger in Austin’s gaze, and he looked mortified. That did her hurting heart a little bit of good.

“I don’t think so,” she told Russell. Underneath everything else, she saw the surprise in both Austin’s and Russell’s eyes that she would dare to talk back to the managing partner. Turning her attention back to Austin, she shouted, “You had that woman in my house. In my bed. No, I will not shut the fuck up!”

“Forget about the bar,” Russell said to the strange man. “This evening is over. We should be going.”

“No, you gentlemen go ahead and stay,” Molly said. She glared at Austin until his gaze slid away. “There’s a lot of booze in the house, and I’m sure Austin could use some commiseration over his frigid bitch of a wife who won’t spread her legs or shut up when she’s told to. I’ll be the one who leaves.”

Turning away, she charged through the people who still remained and jogged up the stairs to the master suite. Moving swiftly, she pulled out her suitcases and threw things in. Underwear, casual clothes, shoes, toiletries…

She needed all her jewelry. There was quite a bit of money tied up in it, and she wouldn’t leave a single piece behind.

What else, what else? What are you supposed to take with you when you burn down your life?

Financial documents.

Right now Austin was busy dealing with the important people and contacts in his professional life, trying to smooth over a mortifying situation. But when he had time to think, he would think like a lawyer.

She took her suitcases down the back stairs. She could hear a few voices still talking at the front of the house.