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I’d been free long enough that I’d almost forgotten what he sounded like. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to feel my stomach sink when he called me.

I couldn’t stop the way my very well-trained mind did what it had always done: frantically tried to figure out what I’d done wrong, how I’d disappointed him, what he might be screaming at or lecturing me about for the next ten hours.

It took taking a deep breath to remind myself that I didn’t live with him anymore. That I didn’t have to stand there and listen.

I could call my attorney and explain.

I didn’t have to stay there.

I didn’t need to hear him out.

I turned and rushed back out of the glass doors without even looking at him.

The thing was, I also didn’t want him to see me walking to my car. It wasn’t exactly a plain white sedan that a thousand other people could drive. My car stood out. It would be easy to track down if he was utilizing a private detective.

So I turned and walked in the opposite direction. I tried to keep the anxiety from ratcheting up and tried to focus on where I was going to go.

“Georgia, don’t walk away from me.”

Ice slid down my spine.

My legs tried to lock.

That was how well-trained he had me.

But I was proud of how I forced them to keep carrying me. Away from the attorney’s office and closer to the center of town where there would be people.

I was going to trust that Perry was still someone who cared about his reputation, who didn’t want to create a scene.

But before I could get there, his long-legged, determined pace caught up to me. Then his hand was around my wrist, holding tight, yanking back enough that my shoulder screamed until I had to stop walking.

“Let go of me,” I demanded as he moved in front of me, his cold fingers still holding my wrist hard enough to leave a mark.

I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, so I focused on his chin again.

“You need to listen to me.”

“No, actually, I don’t. Let go of me, or I am going to scream.”

“No, you won’t. You know better than that.”

Rage boiled in my belly.

And suddenly my gaze flicked up to his.

“What are you going to do, Perry? Hit me? Right here in public? There are girls taking selfies right on the next corner. Wanna bet they’d get a video really quickly?”

“Watch it,” Perry snapped, his voice like a slap. And something inside of me did flinch back, but I managed to keep my face from reacting.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” My voice was stronger then, louder. Loud enough that I saw one of the girls with the phones whip her head over.

“Keep it up, Georgia.”

“You don’t get to threaten me anymore, Perry. We’re getting a divorce. And thank you for the reminder of why.”

His eyes narrowed, but then his whole face softened. Even his hand loosened.

I used to call this his chameleon effect.