Free Breaking Hearts by Melissa Shirley Page B

with only one way in and one way out. The first few days were fine, then Kieran had a tantrum when I made him go to bed. My entire world erupted. Suddenly, my new home was a riot of screaming and yelling. First Kieran, then Sean in response threatening to spank Kieran if I couldn’t shut him the hell up. While Kieran’s will outlasted mine, but mine outlasted my new husband’s. Sean stormed to the garage, and with a roar of his engine and the squeal of his tires, left.
    Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, he stumbled in the front door, tripped over a dinosaur toy, and hit his head on a marble table in the living room. I hadn’t bought the table, dropped the toy, or forced him to drink so much he could lose his balance over whatever obstructed his path. He yanked me from the bed by my arm and dragged me through the house to show me the table, as though I’d pushed him. Three drops of blood landed on the floor, and he stood over me (more swayed over me), as I scrubbed the carpet before he let me go back to bed.
    When Kieran woke two hours later, I got up and coffee’d my way through the day. That night, Sean went out, and I smiled at the relaxing peace. Earlier than ever before, I took Kieran to bed with me. All was forgotten.
    Sean and I got along fine for a while. He even planned a trip home to Storybook Lake so he could meet my family. I booked flights for the Thanksgiving weekend, still under the assumption that he was the prince in my fairytale.
    The day before our trip, Sean came home and decided we needed a bigger house, since I was “rolling” in money from my “little clothes business.” I hadn’t commented with the appropriate enthusiasm. Instead, I told him I liked our house. I must have liked it, anyway, as I’d paid off the mortgage only a couple weeks earlier. In his mind, though, stating a contrary opinion meant I questioned his judgment. I’d stepped outside the wifely box he believed I belonged in and humiliated him. As retribution for my ‘bad’ behavior, he slammed my head into the counter. Within minutes, a bruise and bump added a bit of new character to my face.
    I couldn’t go home looking like I’d been in a bar brawl. He left me no choice but to cancel our flights and make the appropriate apologies. Later, when he left for the club, I didn’t waste any time packing bags for me and Kieran. We were leaving. I would go home to my parents and beg them to help me with Kieran if I had to. So long as my baby was safe, I could live through seeing Simon with someone else.
    Kieran fell asleep during my packing, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. The morning would be soon enough.
    The next morning, Thanksgiving Day, I woke to the sounds of dishes clattering against one another and the smell of a freshly baked turkey in the oven. I climbed from the spare bed in Kieran’s room, wiped my eyes, and walked out to the kitchen. A woman in her early senior years stood at the counter peeling potatoes.
    “Hi. I’m Danielle.” I gave a quick glance of all the area I could see, hoping to catch a glimpse of my soon-to-be ex-husband, then turned again to face her. “Where’s Sean?”
    She dried her hands and extended one to me. “I’m so happy to meet you. He’s told me so much about you.”
    “I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage.” He’d mentioned no one to me.
    She grinned and winked as though we shared some great secret. “That boy. What am I going to do with him?” It seemed rhetorical so I stayed quiet. “I’m Sean’s mother. He called me yesterday and asked me to join you for dinner today. He said you weren’t much of a cook, so I jumped right in.” She patted my hand. “After the holidays, I’ll come by and teach you. Can’t have my boy eating TV dinners. He works hard and deserves some home-cooked meals.”
    But I could cook. I didn’t have my own show on the food network, but I could throw together a suitable dinner--Thanksgiving or otherwise--if the urge so