Chapter 2 - The Getaway Car
The night air was cool against Clara’s tear-stained face as she practically ran to her car. Her hands shook violently as she fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and slipping into the driver's seat. She locked the doors immediately, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
She was still wearing the elegant white one-shoulder dress she had put on for their post-wedding brunch, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had just taken place. Clara started the engine and threw the car into drive, peeling out of the driveway of the suburban mini-mansion they had moved into just weeks prior.
As she drove, the adrenaline began to wear off, leaving behind a hollow, agonizing ache in her chest. How had she missed the signs? Had she been willfully blind, or had Daniel just been that good of an actor? She recalled his intense focus on her during their courtship, the way he rushed the engagement, the way he seamlessly separated her from her friends on weekends. It hadn't been devotion; it had been isolation.
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Her phone buzzed in the cup holder. The screen lit up with Daniel's name. It buzzed again. And again. She ignored it, eventually pulling over in a dimly lit grocery store parking lot to turn the device off entirely.
Clara leaned her head against the steering wheel and finally let the dam break. She sobbed for the future she had lost, for the embarrassment she would face, and for the sheer terror of what had just transpired. But as the tears slowed, a tiny, quiet ember of pride ignited in her chest. She had left. She hadn't stayed to be broken. She had walked out.
