Chapter 2: The Suitcase on the Bed
Three days later, my attorney called to confirm the sale was in motion.
I was already packing when Eric walked into the bedroom and saw the open suitcase on the bed.
"What is this?"
"I'm leaving."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
"Where exactly are you going to go?"
"England.
I have a position waiting."
The laugh stopped.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping.
"You can't just walk out.
This is our home."
I looked at him calmly.
"No.
It was my home.
I bought it before I ever met you.
And I sold it this morning."
The color drained from his face.
"You sold — " He couldn't finish the sentence.
"You can't do that.
My mother is here.
Madison is about to give birth."
"I know.
You have about thirty days before the new owners take possession.
I'd start making calls."
He grabbed my arm.
"You're doing this out of spite."
I removed his hand, quietly and without rushing.
"I'm doing this because you told me to watch my mouth in my own house, and your mother smiled when you did it."
From the hallway, I heard Diane's voice go sharp and tight.
"Eric.
What is she saying?"
He turned toward the door.
I zipped the suitcase.
What neither of them knew yet was that the house wasn't the only thing I had already moved.
My attorney had sent one more document that morning — and Eric hadn't opened his email yet.
---
What was in that second document?
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What Eric found next shattered everything he thought he knew.
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