“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

Ken appears in the doorway with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looks at us both. His expression is completely blank. He is a stranger.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

Without answering, he turns and goes out, down the front hallway. The door slams behind him. Eli goes to the kitchen window and looks out.

“He is leaving,” he says. “Good.”

My teeth chatter, so I clamp my jaw. I can’t let my son see me break down about this. But what am I going to do now?

“Are you okay, Mom?”

“Yes. It was a fight. It’ll be okay. Let your dad blow off some steam, that’s all. He’s under a lot of stress.”

Eli’s lip curls. “He hit you.”

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

“You’re bleeding,” he says quietly.

I touch my face, but he shakes his head and takes my hand gently, turning it palm up. The diamond no longer glitters, coated in a smear of red. The wound stings, but it will close quickly. Wincing, I tug the ring hard enough to get it over my knuckle. The blood makes it slippery enough to come free quickly. I close my fingers around the ring.

He hugs me again.

“I can give you money.” He pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket and fans it toward me.

I see a five, a ten, a twenty. “Where did you get that?”

“It’s my birthday money and stuff. And Christian gave me some for helping him.”

I close my hand over his, pushing the roll of money toward him.

“I don’t need you to do that. Okay?” I grip his shoulders and look into his eyes. “I’ll take care of us.”

Whatever it takes.

CHAPTER
29

THE WOMAN BEHIND the jeweler’s counter smiled at me when I came in, but she’s not looking quite as cheerful now. Her gaze is soft and sympathetic. She places my engagement ring on a soft velvet pillow and rests both hands on the glass countertop on either side.

“This is a lovely piece, but I’m afraid it’s not a diamond.”

I wish I was surprised, but I’m only resigned. “What is it? Cubic zirconium?”

“It’s white sapphire,” she says. “Quite lovely, as I said.”

“But not worth as much.”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. And we couldn’t sell it here. You could try a pawn shop?”

My diamond earrings, at least, are real, although it turns out they’re not worth much, either. The pawn shop gives me couple hundred bucks cash for them and another few for the ring. I leave the store with my hand feeling light and my heart heavy.

I need more.

Determination gets me to the storage unit’s parking lot without running my car off the road. I’m not sobbing, but my vision blurs with tears that slip down my cheeks and drop off my chin to leave dark circles of wet on my jeans. I pull into a spot and pound the steering wheel, cursing first under my breath. Then louder. I let my head rest on the wheel. My heart pounds as though I’ve run a marathon, and chill sweat wends its way down the channel of my spine.