He reached across me and opened my door. “You need to learn how to manage without constantly depending on me and my money. Since you can’t seem to understand the value of a dollar, you’re going to figure out how to get home by yourself. Maybe then you’ll appreciate what you have.”
“Derek, please. I don’t even know where we are.”
He grabbed my purse from my lap and started rifling through it. He took out my wallet, which had my credit cards, my debit card, and the thirty-two dollars in cash I’d been saving. He even took my phone from my jacket pocket.
“How am I supposed to get home? How am I supposed to call anyone?”
“That’s your problem to solve. Consider this a lesson in resourcefulness. When you figure out how to get home and you’re ready to apologize properly and commit to being more responsible, then we’ll talk.”
“Please don’t do this,” I begged. Tears were streaming down my face. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“You should have thought about that before you wasted our money. Now get out.”
My hands were shaking as I climbed out of the car. This was my husband. The man who promised to love and protect me. And he was leaving me in a strange part of the city with no money, no phone, and no way home.
