Chapter 6 - THE KEYS IN HER PURSE
Our honeymoon was supposed to begin Sunday morning.
By midnight, Nick had canceled the flight.
I didn’t argue.
I also didn’t tell him it was fine.
Nothing about this was fine.
We left the reception after cutting the cake.
Lena packed a slice for me because I hadn’t tasted it.
Ruth came home with us.
When Nick unlocked our apartment, he immediately walked to the kitchen drawer where we kept important paperwork.
The folder was gone.
He checked beneath takeout menus.
Inside the cabinet.
On top of the refrigerator.
Then he stopped.
“Mom was here yesterday.”
“To drop off the place cards,” I said.
“She still has a key.”
We both looked at the door.
The apartment suddenly felt less like home.
Nick called Martha.
She answered on the first ring.
“Are you ready to apologize?”
“Where’s the folder?”
“What folder?”
“The papers I signed.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. We can talk when you’ve calmed down.”
“Bring them back.”
“You asked me to handle the house.”
“I asked you to get information.”
“And I did. You should be grateful.”
Ruth shook her head at Nick.
He put the call on speaker.
“Did I sign a sale contract?”
A pause.
“You signed what needed signing.”
My stomach tightened.
Nick leaned against the counter.
“Who is buying it?”
“That’s none of her business.”
“She’s my wife.”
“Today she is.”
The words landed in the kitchen like something thrown.
Nick ended the call.
He stood motionless.
I wanted him to smash something.
I wanted him to cry.
Instead, he opened a notes app and typed everything she had said.
Then he called the building’s emergency maintenance line and asked about changing our lock.
It was the first useful thing anybody had done in hours.
At two in the morning, after Ruth left, I took off my wedding dress.
Loose hair fell from the lining onto the bathroom floor.
I sat on the closed toilet and cried so hard I couldn’t breathe.
Nick knocked once.
“Can I come in?”
I didn’t answer.
He stayed outside.
“I’m here.”
“You always said she didn’t mean it.”
“I know.”
“You said she was scared of losing you.”
“I know.”
I opened the door.
“What did you think she was trying to make me lose?”
He looked at the hair on the floor.
“I don’t have an answer that won’t make this worse.”
That was the first honest answer he had ever given me about his mother.
At seven, his phone rang.
The real estate agent sounded confused.
“Your mother says you’re having second thoughts because your wife wants the proceeds transferred into her personal account.”
Nick closed his eyes.
May you like
Then the agent added:
“She says there’s a signed instruction from you.”
