Barely ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from David: [Did you take my car? Stop messing around and come back. The mountain roads are slippery.]

'His car?'

The audacity. The registration was in my name, not his.

When I didn’t reply, my phone started ringing.

“Elaine,” David growled when I picked up, his voice low and threatening. “What do you think you’re doing? Leaving without saying a word? Do you even see me as your husband anymore?”