Excellent continuation of story The Interloper : The Downfall Chap 5 by dragonpoet

The next morning, I was awakened by the doorbell. I was surprised when Angie came to me and told me it was Gunthar. I quickly got dressed and met him at the door. He had a dozen long-stemmed roses in his hands and a contrite look on his face. He softly pleaded, "I am sorry and it will never happen again. Please come back." If I hadn't look into his eyes and seen they were dead, I would have thought he was sincere. I answered crisply, "I now know more of your past relationships, and I will not step foot in your house again, except to get my belongings." I guess he thought I would cave right away at his softly spoken apology because the sad contrite mask dropped from his face as fast as rocks in a landslide. He threw the flowers in my face and screamed, "You'll pay for this. You'll see." He turned on a dime, and marched like a general back to his car and sped away. His actions proved to me nothing would have changed if I had returned to him. Angie opened her arms to me as I turned to her in tears equally mixed with anger and grief. She hugged me until I stopped crying and then poured me some wine. She led me to her comfortable, chic couch and we talked of what my future would hold. We talked of looking for a small flat but we quickly realized my bank account was not big enough for me to afford it. Also, I didn't have a steady income to show I could keep up with rent and other bills. It was decided, I would stay here with her and pay my portion of the utilities and a small amount of rent since she was still paying a mortgage. She got the house in the divorce settlement and was living here alone. Her husband left her when he found out she could bear no more children after one miscarriage and the death of their son at two from a fever. It seemed he couldn't get past the grief and would agree to adoption. So, he decided getting out of the marriage was better. Angie had agreed because she found it hard to heal with his anger and grief seemingly getting worse each day instead of better. As we sipped our wine, we planned to move my things from Gunther's while he was at work tomorrow morning. I also wanted to say goodbye to Mrs. Bessersmith and Catherine. It was so sad, because I was just starting to call Mrs. Bessersmith, by her first name, Amanda and Catherine, Caty, when Gunthar wasn't home. He refused to let me be anything but formal with the 'help'. He felt it kept them in their place. Which, of course, was below his. The next morning, we left to pick up my things at mid-morning. When we arrived, we made sure his car wasn't there before going to ring the doorbell. I heard Amanda's footsteps coming toward the door. When she opened it, she shrieked with joy and threw her arms around me. Caty was at the door in record time after her mother's squeal. She had a rousing welcome too. Angie just stood and watched, smiling from ear to ear. I dampened their joy, when I told them that I was just coming to get my stuff to move to Angie's. They looked at me with understanding and agreement. They knew what would happen if I stayed. Amanda insisted on making us tea. We drank quickly and started packing. When the four of us went to work, it only took a short time for I didn't have much. When I asked her what happened to the pies and jars of jam I had left on the counter, she said he had smashed the pies and thrown the jam against the wall. It took them hours to clean the mess. They helped us pack the car and we had a tearful goodbye. We wondered if we were ever going to see each other again. Knowing that if we did, it would have to be without Gunthar knowing it. While Angie and I were putting my clothes away in the bedroom decorated in muted greens and blues, she looked at me with a worried expression on her face. I asked her what was wrong. She looked around me then at me and said, "My ex-husband works at the government offices with Gunthar. He often said he was worried about the amount of power Gunthar was amassing. Maybe he can act on his threat." I replied with a slight tremble in my voice, "You really think so, Angie?" Looking back, the last few times Gunthar and I went out, the people who greeted us in passing looked more fearful than respectful of him. I thought it strange, but never thought to question it. Maybe I should have." Now we both were worried. Another two weeks went by and nothing happened. We had found a nice relaxed routine between my baking and making jam and her needs in the kitchen. She lived just down the street from my customers so we could just walk over. Sometimes pulling my products in a little red wagon. Nothing happened, so we thought we were in the clear. Boy, were we wrong.

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