Tonight we’re making homemade pizza together. I’m not nervous to tell them my news. They’ve wanted me to move back home for years now but over the last few years I’ve been thinking of it more and more. When I stayed with the kids while Barrett and Tess were at the cabin, an opportunity came up. An opportunity I put out of my mind as even an option years ago. But this restaurant is perfect. I’ve always wanted to find a space where I could claim the kitchen as my own.
I’m excited to move on, to move forward. To get into a better place than where I’ve spent the last several years. I put my life on hold while I raised Lily, and I don’t regret a single moment of it. I wouldn’t change anything, but it’s my time now. And I have my sights set on more than just a new restaurant and conquering my own kitchen.
Sneak peek
Read on for a sneak peek of A Better Place
James and Carly’s story
A Better Place
Prologue - Carly
“You’re worthless, you know that?”
I stand motionless, the venom in his words used to cut me deeply, but sadly it’s something I’ve gotten used to. My hands are hanging at my sides, my fingers twisting the string hanging from my cutoff shorts. My hair is in a messy bun on top of my head. It’s so long and thick, and the summer heat is driving me insane, but he won’t let me cut it like I want to. It’s almost down to my waist so unless I want to die from heat stroke, I put it up almost every day.
“What? You can’t even reply?” he sneers at me, looking me up and down disapprovingly.
I close my eyes, knowing the toxic poison he will be spewing at me won’t end there. It wasn’t always this way. As with most situations like mine, no one enters into it knowing what a spouse is going to turn out like. No. In the beginning, it’s blissful. He said all the right things. Did all the right things. Made me feel like I was living on a cloud. Told me I was beautiful on my worst days, and I had a lot of bad days. When I left my home for college, I thought everything would finally fall into place. Growing up without a father, I never thought of myself as having daddy issues. But having a mother who turned to alcohol at every turn, showing up to school events wasted, couldn’t even sit through my high school graduation without sucking down alcohol first, really messed with me. Always made me wonder what I couldn’t give her that she needed alcohol to fill. Her constant neediness, paired with her violent words she would shout at me, eventually blaming me for her life she lived alone, was a blow to my already-diminished self-confidence.
When I met Vince, he was always amazing and wonderful. I thought I had found one of the most chivalrous gentlemen in the world. He built me back up, told me things I hadn’t heard from anyone in my entire life. And it wasn’t just his words; his actions told me he was just as smitten as I was. Always showed me affection whether we were in public or alone, cheered the loudest for me during my intramural sports — even our engagement was in front of hundreds of people. I look back now and realize that it was always a show. He was charming, kind, generous, and loving. I couldn’t believe I had found a man who could love me like he did. Until I couldn’t believe I found someone who loved me the way he did.
“You think being a teacher means you don’t have to do shit all summer long? What did you even do today?”
I don’t answer him because, no matter what I say, it won’t be good enough. I don’t tell him that I cleaned the kitchen floor, did three loads of laundry, played with Jack, balanced the checkbook (and ignored the charges to the strip joint on the credit card) and had a homemade supper on the table waiting for him, but because I didn’t get a chance to pick up the dry cleaning, I won’t mention any of the chores I did. He doesn’t want an answer anyway — it will only engage him more and cause him to belittle me further.
This wasn’t our first dance.
“Did you even shower today?” He curls his lip at me in disgust.
Again, I don’t answer. It won’t matter. If I shower, he yells at me for wasting water on a day that I’m not even leaving the house. Or he’ll ask who I need to look good for since he isn’t home all day. And the fact is, I didn’t shower today. I was outside playing basketball with Jack after going for a run and hadn’t gotten to it yet.
“Look at you. You’re so fucking pathetic.” I flinch at the word he rarely uses, at least in front of me. “You disgust me. How do you expect me to want to screw someone who looks like you?” he asks as he reaches over and pinches my stomach, as if it’s fat.
I’m 5’2” and barely weigh one hundred pounds. I run at least five miles every day. I play tennis, do yoga. He knows this. It was what he practically demanded of me. Not that it matters to him, anyway. I could look like a supermodel, and it wouldn’t be good enough for the great Vince Taylor. And if I’m honest, I hope I disgust him enough to not have sex with me. I sure as hell don’t care about having sex with him.
Vince is a good-looking man. I have to admit that. On the outside at least. But I know better. A man’s heart, when it’s full of malevolence, tends to seep into the outside. To me, his once beautiful green eyes now only look like that of a snake’s. His strong arms that I once found comfort in during our early years now only shake with violence as he holds back from doing to me what I know he really wants to.
I’m one of the lucky ones. I have only endeared verbal abuse. So far.
He reaches for me again, and I stiffen at the thought of his touch on any part of me. He grabs my arm and pulls me to him.
“What? I can’t touch my wife?”
My stare holds his. I know better than to break eye contact. He finds it a sign of weakness. He uses it to hold power over me. It isn’t a sign of love. It’s a sign of ownership.
“Vince…” I whisper hoarsely. I hate the fact that I can’t hide the fear that’s slicing through me.
“You can’t even speak? What’s wrong with you? I don’t know what I ever saw in you. You were just a warm hole, and now look. I’m stuck with you.” His lip curls as he looks at me as if I repulse him. “I don’t know what I did in a previous life to deserve such a useless wife.”
Tears spring to my eyes, but not from his hateful words. From the pain of biting my tongue to hold back what I want to say. He always acts like I’m so lucky to have him.
“Are you crying? Seriously, Carly. Grow up.” When I stay silent, keeping my eyes locked on his, his grip on my arm tightens to the point of pain. “Answer me, dammit! What the hell is wrong with you? Did you become a mute while I was working my ass off today just to support this family? Lord knows you barely contribute. Teacher’s salary,” he scoffs and shakes his head in disgust.
I met Vince in college. While I was studying to become a teacher. I have no idea why it was such a point of loathing for him now, when he knew that was what I was going to do for a career before he married me. I used to think I knew Vince. Turns out, when the person I thought I had all figured out is actually living a lie, it’s pretty hard to know what his next step is going to be.
I blink and glance away from him. With his free hand, he grabs my neck and cups my jaw. If he’s trying to get my attention, it’s working. I gasp, but it’s cut off by the tight grip he has on my neck. I bring my hand up to move his arm away, out of pure instinct, but it only causes his grip to tighten further.