"Are you out of your mind, Ezra? You're so terrified I'll bully her. You keep saying you want to make it up to her and the baby. If we divorce, you can marry Denise. You can treat her as well as you want, out in the open. Problem solved."
"Unless..."
A possibility crossed my mind, and I smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
"Afraid a divorce would look bad? Hurt your chances at a promotion?"
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
He frowned at me, his tone matter-of-fact:
"Didn't I already explain this to you? There's nothing between Denise and me. She just wanted to offer herself to me, to fulfill some fantasy of hers."
"I agreed to marry you. You're the only one I'll ever marry, and I'm not going to divorce you."
The absurdity of it hit me like a wall. My voice came out cold as ice:
"I don't need any of that, Ezra. What makes you think that after you killed me and our child, I'd be willing to spend the rest of my life playing house with you?"
Ezra looked at me, something unreadable crossing his face.
"Shelagh, the last life is over. This time around... I'll treat you well."
Before I could respond, he yanked the door open, stepped out, and locked me inside.