Rose Garden Revenge

me, he built a cage. We had been married for ten years, a decade I spent as the perfect homemaker, the silen

a serial p

was different. Her name was Liam, a young artist with wide, ambitious eyes

first crack i

was truly mine. Each bush was a memory of the children we lost, two babies who never took t

She was directing two gardeners, pointing at my prize-winni

r second child and left me with a permanent limp, made it hard to hurry. By the time I reached them, a hal

a sweet, manufactur

this space. I' m thinking a modern sculpture ga

e hard. She was dismantling my life p

he pitying looks at charity galas, the newspaper photos of Robert with yet another woman on his arm. I had smiled, hel

nfidelity, his coldness. But this, this was

s," I said, my voi

a sound like g

whole house is his to do with as he ple

he gardeners. "Get

lf small to accommodate his enormous ego-it all came rushing to the surface. I walked ov

. My voice was l

ooked from me t

ke a scene," Liam s

f my garden

st time in a long time, I didn't feel wea

ketching at his large oak desk, the very picture of a cr

we need

busy, E

gging up my

of annoyance. "I told her she could. It'

to me, and you know it. Those r

em into this. That was a long time a

his dreams, managed his home, and raised his public profile, all while nursing my own private heartbr

atience. "Look, Liam is an artist. She needs a space to e

me, Robert? What

o the bar to pour himself a d

want, Eleanor. This house, the mon

d that his fortune was a fair trade for my soul. He had taken my love, my loyalty, my sacrifi

m

n killed by the 99 affairs. It was killed by his casual dismissal of our s

reclaim my life, my dignity, and my legacy. The fight would be public, it woul

enjoy every