Chapter 3

"Get out! Take your filthy money and get out! Say one more word and I'll wait till you're asleep and cut you up with a knife!"

It was the money that gave me the nerve, for the first time in all these years, to scream at Isaac Simmons and put my hands on him.

My daughter clung to me, sobbing.

"Mommy, Coco doesn't want new clothes! Coco won't eat meat anymore!"

Isaac wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, gave a scornful little laugh, and loosened his tie.

He looked like he was about to hit me, so I backed away with the baby in my arms and shouted at him.

"Isaac Simmons! Just try laying a hand on me! You hit me once today and I'm calling the cops this second!"

My threat seemed to have no effect on him at all. Expressionless, he pulled the tie off and wound it around his hand.

I'd seen this scene on TV plenty of times. The next moment he'd be beating me. I stood up, still holding the baby, and looked at him with a steady stare.

"Go ahead and hit me if you've got the guts! You lay one hand on me today, and tomorrow I'll put you in the news!"

"I've got nothing to lose here, so why not let the whole internet weigh in and decide who's right and who's wrong!"

"And while they're at it, let them dig into whether your company actually makes any money, and whether you've been keeping another family behind my back!"

Isaac froze for a second. Whether he thought I'd found something out, or whether his own guilty conscience got the better of him, I couldn't tell. He only lowered the right hand he'd raised.

"You're completely out of your mind. There's nothing to discuss with a freeloading housewife like you!"

"Go ahead and make your scene if you dare. If you really do sink my company, you'll never live the good life you've got now."

"Dorothy Fletcher, I work hard enough every day. Don't push your luck when I'm being decent to you!"

With that, he slammed the door on his way out.

My daughter was so frightened that she was still hiccuping through her sobs when she went to sleep. Aching for her, I held her against me and stroked her back, over and over, until she slowly relaxed.

For a while after that, Isaac didn't come home, and I didn't send him a single message.

With money in hand, my daughter and I spent that stretch of time in real comfort.

I bought a lot of new clothes, swapped my own phone for one of those new tri-fold models, and got my daughter the latest learning tablet.

I took her to check off every amusement park in the city, and we ate our way through all kinds of good food.

My once shy and quiet daughter opened up a great deal, chattering away every day with more to say than she could get out.

By unspoken agreement, neither of us brought up Isaac, as if it made no difference whether he came home or not. And in truth, it didn't.

No apology from me ever came. The three thousand that used to land in my account like clockwork at the start of every month stopped, and he cut off my daughter's meal fees at school too.

Then the preschool teacher called about the unpaid bill.

"Coco's mom, Coco is the only child in the class who hasn't paid the meal fee. Coco's dad always took care of it before. I just reached out to him, and he told me to contact you. How would you like to handle the payment on your end?"

I apologized again and again and promised to pay right away.

Then, inside, I cursed Isaac up and down. He really was a piece of work. To get back at me for that one slap, he'd stopped supporting his own daughter.

He thought that by cutting me off, choking my income, he could get me completely under his thumb.

But what he'd never guessed was that I had my own way of getting money now. Not a clean one, sure, but fast.

After I hung up, I downloaded a few more loan apps, maxed them all out, and paid off all three years of my daughter's preschool fees in one shot.

Having money really does feel good.