—I’ve had enough and have left you. Don’t bother coming after me.
Then she hid under the bed to watch his reaction.
A short while later, her husband came home. She heard him in the kitchen, then watched his feet cross the bedroom toward the dresser. He picked up the note, stood there for a few minutes, wrote something on it, then picked up the phone.
—She’s finally gone… yeah, I know, about time. I’m coming to see you. Put on that French nightie. I love you… can’t wait to see you.
He hung up, grabbed his keys, and left.
She heard the car drive off, then crawled out from under the bed. Seething with rage and with tears in her eyes, she snatched up the note to see what he had written:
