In the kitchen, the roast chicken he had prepared sat on the counter, the smell of rosemary suddenly making me nauseous.

My car keys were sitting next to the microwave, glinting under the under-cabinet lighting.

I needed to reach them before he realized what I was planning.

Nathan walked to the sliding glass door that led to the patio, staring out into the dark backyard.

“I built this life for us,” he said, his back to me.

“I worked eighty hours a week so we could have this house, so Lily could go to a good school.”

“You built it on lies, Nathan,” I said, my hand slowly creeping toward the keys.

“Lies are just boundaries,” he said, turning around slowly.

“They keep the chaos out.”

He raised his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen.

The blue light reflected in his eyes, making them look cold and glassy.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

My fingers brushed the cold metal of the key ring.

“I think we need space,” I said, grabbing the keys and shoving them into my pocket.