Chapter 4: The Price of Leaving

Lauren had trusted the wrong person.

Two months ago, Caleb personally wrote to the county judge in Silver Hollow to help her get a divorce.

He pitied her loneliness and brought her to Savannah to settle down.

Now, he was going to bring her into the household as a second wife.

When Caleb brought Lauren to see me, I was tallying my dowry.

The room was full of dust motes floating in the sunlight, old boxes stacked against the walls. My ledger was open, my pen scratching out figures, the scent of cedar from the hope chest filling the air.

When I married Caleb, I brought eighty carloads of wedding gifts with me. My folks went all out—china, silver, even a quilt stitched by my great-aunt.

A caravan of trunks and boxes, my mother’s china and my father’s favorite books, all paraded down Main Street. Folks still talked about it at the grocery store.

Now, I had to check each item, exchange them for cashier’s checks, and use the money to handle things at the jail.

Each keepsake became a price, a way to pay for lawyers and appeals. My wedding became a ledger of losses.

Caleb came in.

I put away the ledger and stood up to greet him.

He said, “Lauren wants to live in this room. Move out.”

His voice was cold and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

This bedroom was closest to Caleb’s. The garden was full of blooming flowers, and there was a dogwood tree he had planted himself.

Under the pergola hung a swing he’d set up for me when we were newlyweds.

Lauren stood behind him, peeking shyly over his shoulder. Her hazel eyes were full of envy.

She wore a pale blue sundress and clutched her hands together, not meeting my gaze. Her presence was timid, but her claim was bold.

I looked up and, for the first time, refused him: “No.”

My heart hammered, but I held my ground. I’d lost enough already. My voice shook, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. I dug my heels in, feeling the hardwood floor steady beneath me.

“The house is big enough—she can live somewhere else. Why does it have to be here?”

She tugged at Caleb’s sleeve, a little unhappy.

Lauren’s lips trembled, but she didn’t look away. Caleb put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, the gesture practiced, intimate.

Caleb’s face darkened. “Because Lauren likes it.”

“Because the dogwood tree here was planted for her.”

So, this place had always been meant for Lauren from the very beginning.

Lauren smiled at me, her expression gentle, like a dogwood blossom against the white porch railings.

Her eyes sparkled with a mix of victory and apology, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

I stared at her.

Caleb shielded her behind him, his tone icy: “Move out today.”

“Just do it. Don’t make things harder for everyone.”

I lowered my eyes and answered softly, “All right.”

My father was already in jail.

I had lost my greatest support.

Caleb didn’t have to treat me kindly anymore.

The air in the room grew thick and silent. The magnolia scent from the garden couldn’t mask the bitterness curling in my chest.