Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
F ive days later, on the first Tuesday of December, the townhouse was officially sold. I had one more day to clear out what I wanted to keep.
It was a cold clear night as I left work. A pie plate my mother had given me years ago was still at the townhouse. My favorite coffee mug was there, too. I drove over and parked in the driveway.
After watching for a few minutes, I unlocked the door and carried in the cardboard box I’d brought. Realtor business cards covered part of the kitchen counter. Autumn had decorated with bouquets of silk flowers and taken down the few photos of Gerry and me that used to be on the walls and tables. I’d already donated the frames.
Not your home anymore. I’d lost my nest. The drawers and cabinets were mostly empty—I’d managed that over the weekend—except for what a furnished rental would need.
I stared at the pie plate. My parents had cut me out of their lives, and yet I still had a soft spot in my heart for them. One day, I’d see them again.
The door rattled, and I spun around. Gerry walked through the door.
“Hey.” He ran a hand through his hair, wobbling a little on his feet. “Good. Wanted to see you.”
My heart raced. “I’m ready to get going.”
“Can you believe this?” His face lit up with a crooked grin. “So lucky.”
I picked up my box, nodding slightly, my neck twinging.
“Babe.” He walked toward me, and I had to stop myself from running.
“Stop.” I held up a hand. “Don’t come near me. I’m uncomfortable, and I’m leaving.”
His mouth dropped open. “What? No—we’re cool. I’m even cutting you a check for the money you want. Because I care.”
Gerry had agreed to a settlement with my lawyer. After I’d been reimbursed for the money he’d stolen—from his portion of the townhouse proceedings—I’d drop the charges. The photos of me online had been taken down. The deal was a win for Gerry—it didn’t acknowledge how much more I’d paid toward the bills or that the furniture I’d bought was getting us the bonus. Or the damage he’d done to my reputation. It was worth it to be rid of him.
“Goodbye,” I said, moving toward the door. “Don’t forget there’s a box of your things in the garage.”
He lunged and blocked me, grabbing my shoulders. I screamed. The pie plate dropped and shattered on the kitchen tile.
“No,” he gritted out, gripping me tighter as I tried to wrench away.
“Let go of me.” My vision was blurry. I thought I might throw up. The pie plate crunched under my feet.
“Please. I love you—we’re so good together. I need you one more time.”
I kneed him hard, right between the legs.
“Fuck.” He hunched over, jerking and grabbing his crotch as I jumped away and ran for the door.
It flew open before I got there. Lori stomped in, her face red.
“Gerry,” she shouted shrilly. “What the hell is this?”
He flinched. “Nothing.”
“You fucking sorry ass liar. I’ve been waiting for you. You’re buying me dinner tonight or so help me…”
That was the last I heard as I rushed outside and got into my car. I backed out of the driveway too fast, then drove quickly away, turning down side streets until I parked by a Pacific wax myrtle, still dropping purple berries. Pressing a hand to my chest, I turned off my headlights, and sat, catching my breath.
Exactly what he deserves. After another moment, I sighed.