Chapter 10 - THE SECOND HOUSE
Three weeks later, I bought another house.
Not a mansion.
Not even close.
Four bedrooms.
A garden.
Big windows.
A maple tree in the backyard.
Paige hated the kitchen counters.
I loved them.
“They’re ugly.”
“They’re stone.”
“They’re orange.”
“They’re warm.”
“They’re orange.”
I laughed.
Maya slept against my chest while we walked through the empty living room.
There was no grand staircase.
No wine cellar.
No eight-car garage.
No guest wing for Evelyn to claim.
It felt perfect.
“This one?” Paige asked.
“This one.”
“You’re sure?”
I looked around.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody else has ever lived here and mistaken it for theirs.”
Paige smiled.
“That’s a very specific requirement.”
“I’ve learned.”
I purchased the house through a separate holding structure Natalie helped establish.
Every document was clean.
Every boundary clear.
Then something unexpected happened.
Garret asked to meet.
Not through his attorney.
Through the parenting app.
I showed Natalie.
“What do you think?”
“Public place.”
“No Maya?”
“Not the first time.”
We met at a café.
Garret looked different.
He had lost weight.
The expensive confidence was gone.
He sat down across from me.
“Thanks for coming.”
“You have twenty minutes.”
He looked hurt.
I felt nothing.
“I miss you.”
“Then we can save nineteen minutes.”
“Audrey.”
“What do you want?”
He looked down.
“My creditors are coming after me.”
“I know.”
“Mom can’t help anymore.”
“I know.”
“Tessa won’t even answer my calls.”
“That I didn’t know.”
He rubbed his face.
“I messed up.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I could fix everything.”
“With my house.”
He didn’t answer.
“With my signature.”
Still nothing.
“With a document you planned to put in front of me after I gave birth.”
His eyes lifted.
“I wasn’t going to force you.”
“You were going to manipulate me.”
“I was desperate.”
“So was I.”
He frowned.
“When?”
“The night I stood outside in the rain holding our daughter.”
His face changed.
I continued.
“I was exhausted.”
“In pain.”
“Scared.”
“I had barely slept.”
“And the one person who was supposed to make sure Maya and I were safe had deliberately removed our access to our own home.”
He looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
It was the first time he had said it.
I wanted it to matter.
It didn’t.
“I believe you’re sorry.”
He looked hopeful.
“But being sorry doesn’t rebuild trust.”
His hope disappeared.
“Is there any chance?”
“For us?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
Then he nodded.
“What about Maya?”
“That depends on what kind of father you decide to become.”
His eyes filled.
I didn’t rescue him from the emotion.
That wasn’t my job anymore.
He had twenty minutes.
I gave him nineteen.
Then I stood.
“Audrey.”
I stopped.
“I really did love you.”
I looked at him.
May you like
“I know.”
That was what made it worse.
