Her Last Chance

Her Last ChanceA short storyVineet Verma This story is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed are fictitious. Similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental.Copyright ©️ 2023 Vineet VermaCover Design by James, GoOnWrite.comAll rights reserved. The distribution of this story without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use any material (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. Contents Prologue 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 Epilogue Thank you for reading! Other titles by Vineet Verma PrologueI should have let him die when I had the chance. Hindsight is 20/20. A phrase that’s often thrown around, but I truly understand the meaning now. My body’s hurting in numerous spots, each injury a reminder of the blows he rained on me last night. Yet here I am, all decked up for the lavish dinner at the Silbermans, applying the final touches of makeup on my face to hide the hideous patch of purple I received courtesy of Adam. I would rather be lying in bed, nursing my wounds, but I don’t have a choice.Speak of the devil — Adam has entered the room, stunning in his tux, his charming smile adding to the attractiveness. This is what floored me when we first met, but it disgusts me now. Love is blind. Another trite phrase, but oh so true. If I hadn’t ignored the red flags back then, the flashes of temper, the possessiveness, if I hadn’t been blinded by his brilliance and my crazy heart, I wouldn’t be in this mess.So close. A week ago we were sitting at the breakfast table, me pecking at my oatmeal, Adam scarfing down his shredded wheat cereal when one of the bite-sized biscuits lodged in his throat and he started choking. All I had to do was sit tight for a couple of minutes until he perished. But my reflexes kicked in, and I performed the Heimlich on him. I saved his life. What did I get in return? A whack on my face with the back of his hand.“Are you trying to kill me?” he yelled. “You messed with my cereal, didn’t you?” He retrieved the cereal box from the pantry and dunked it in the trash can. It was the kind of paranoid behavior that often made me consider whether he was mentally ill. Unfortunately, he shot down my suggestions to seek professional help every single time. The next installment was delivered yesterday. Kicks, punches — the works. It’s a miracle I’m still standing. I’ve been cursing myself since, revisiting that moment when I could have transformed my wretched life. But I don’t think I have it in me to earn my freedom. This is my fate, and I must learn to live with it.“It’s time to go,” he says, pulling me out of these miserable thoughts. “We don’t want to be late again.” Landing blows even with words, his accusatory glare saying it all. I nod and take one last glance in the mirror before heading out with him. Chapter OneSomeone’s at the door. The doorbell’s been sounding every few seconds. Still in bed, I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping this person will go away, but no such luck. My head hurts, but the older injuries are doing better. Legs are sore though, the way they ache after leg day at the gym. The soles of my feet are still killing me. I crawl out of bed and trundle downstairs towards the door. When I open it, there’s a man standing there. He’s wearing a suit and an expression that tells me he means business. “Mrs. Baldwin?” he asks.“Yes.”“I’m Detective Hopper.” He holds up his badge and identification.“What’s this about?”“Is your husband home? Adam Baldwin.”“I … I just got out of bed. Haven’t seen him this morning.”“When did you see him last?”I pause to think, though I’m confident of the answer. “Two days ago.”“He on some trip?”“I guess.”He frowns. “You don’t know?”“It happens all the time. He takes off without telling me.” It’s the truth. I can’t remember a time when he bothered to tell me where he was going when he left the house. Yet, I’m nervous.He hesitates before speaking again. “Mind if we talk inside?”“Sure.” I lead the way to the living room and settle into the couch. He sits on the chair opposite.“Any idea where he could be?”I shake my head. “With one of his girlfriends, I guess.” Where did that come from? Well, too late. My frankness has surprised me as much as it seems to have shocked him.He stares at me. An awkward silence persists for a while. I get the feeling he’s studying me, wondering what to make of me. Quite sure this is not what he expected when he showed up at my door.“He was cheating on you?”“All the time.” Might as well go the distance on this one.“And that didn’t bother you?”“It did at first, but not anymore.” Adam never bothered to hide his infidelity once we were married. That’s how much he disrespected me. Though I feel it was better knowing all along rather than making the shocking discovery at a later stage.Hopper pauses to study me again. “How did you get that?” he asks, indicating something on my face. I’m not sure if he’s referring to the wound on my forehead or the fading bruise around my eye.“I … I fell and hit my head.”“That’s quite a bump. You should get it checked out.”“I will.”“What about that?” This time I’m certain he’s asking about the bruise. “That looks like somebody hit you.”I place my fingers on the mark. “You sure picked the right profession, Detective. Yes, it was a gift from my dear husband.”A wry smile shapes his lips. “So, let me get this straight. He cheats on you. Repeatedly. Hits you. On multiple occasions, I’m guessing.” I nod. “You must