Chapter 4 - The Sound of Departing Engines
Watching them pack was a slow, agonizing process of dismantling an illusion. Darlene kept grabbing things that didn't belong to her—silverware, decorative pillows, even a small lamp from the guest room. Each time, I had to point to the door.
"That stays," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.
Grant didn't fight. He was in a state of profound shock. He looked at the walls, the furniture, the view of the ocean, as if he were trying to memorize it, unable to comprehend that none of it belonged to him. He had spent years telling people his house, his investment, his future. Now, he was walking toward the door with two suitcases, stripped of the veneer of success.
"Where are we supposed to go?" Darlene hissed at me, her face inches from mine. "You're ruining his career! You’re destroying his prospects!"
"His prospects were built on my labor," I said. "His career was a hobby he played with using my money. He can find a new hobby. Maybe he can find a job."
Grant stopped at the threshold. He looked back at me one last time. "You’ll be alone, Tessa. No one wants a woman who treats her husband like a tenant."
"I’d rather be alone," I said, "than a footnote in your failure."
I watched them get back into the silver SUV. It looked smaller now, less impressive against the backdrop of the massive, indifferent Pacific. As they pulled out of the driveway, the dust settled on the gravel.
I stood on the balcony. The ocean was still there. The cedar trees were still there. And for the first time, the house was mine in every sense. I walked into the master bedroom, took Darlene’s things—the ugly, floral quilts and the ceramic figurines—and placed them in heavy-duty trash bags by the door.
I opened the windows wide, letting the salt air scour the room clean of their presence.
I walked to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, and sat on the deck. I pulled out my phone and looked at the bank balance. The inheritance was intact. The house was secure. The parasite had been removed.
May you like
I leaned back, watched the sunset paint the Oregon coast in shades of violet and gold, and felt the heavy weight of the last eight years lift from my shoulders.
I was finally home.
