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The paramedics had attempted valiantly to resuscitate Robert when they got to the house. I had stood back and watched in a state of shock as they used a defibrillator on him to try and get his heart pumping. Then they loaded him onto a gurney and transported him to the waiting ambulance, all but running every step of the way.

Though the paramedics had gotten to the house within minutes of my emergency call, and though their efforts to save Robert had been exceptional, my husband was pronounced dead by the time he arrived at the hospital.

He’d had a heart attack, and then had stopped breathing. Given that he had gone without oxygen for several minutes, even if Robert had been resuscitated, he would have had brain damage.

It would have been no way to live, and there was comfort in knowing that Robert wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his days in a vegetative state.

As for me, the nightmare was over. Robert would never bully me, harass me or make my life miserable again.

But I wasn’t happy about what had happened. I’d never wanted Robert to die—at least not like this. I was, however, relieved. It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t. I was relieved to know that I would be able to move on without any of Robert’s vindictive threats hanging over my head.

Robert’s death made me a widow, but I didn’t stay single for long. Dion and I married two months later—just after I found out I was pregnant.

Minus the twenty percent that would go to charity and the matrimonial house Robert and I had shared, Robert’s will was divided equally between me and his three children. They were all flabbergasted when I renounced my share. I told them that I thought it fair the money go into a trust fund for Robert’s grandchildren. My husband’s children and I hadn’t been close during my marriage—they saw me as Wife Number Three, maybe even as a gold digger, and had mostly kept their distance. But I think I earned their respect when I made it clear I wasn’t after Robert’s money. All I asked for was my store and the million dollars I’d been promised in the prenuptial agreement. I would be more than fine with that.

Dion and I moved about five miles south to the community of Huntersville, where we bought an average-
size family home. Huntersville was close enough to my shop, but far enough from the neighborhood where I’d lived with Robert.

In our new house, we promptly painted the baby’s room blue—for the little boy we were expecting. We were happy and putting the pain of the past behind us.

Some days, I can’t help looking back at my life with Robert, at how ugly and crazy things became. But I don’t have any regrets. He was what I needed at the time. And I married him for the right reasons. And if I hadn’t married him, I would never have opened the store I’d always wanted to.

And if I hadn’t opened the store, I likely never would have met Dion.

But, perhaps I would have. Because I firmly believe that he is my soul mate. The one man in this world I was meant to be with.

And although sometimes it takes many years to find the person who you’ll love with very fiber of your being, I do believe it happens eventually. And when you do, it’s magic. It’s always magic when it’s right.