Chapter Fifteen
TORY
Being back in New Orleans was bittersweet.
Even though I’d only been gone for a few weeks, it felt as if I left a lifetime ago.
I asked Debbie to drop me off directly at the house.
I toyed with the idea of telling Mom I was here, but I didn’t have the energy to hear her berate me.
I only had two goals for this visit: pack all my clothes and cancel the lease.
"You're sure he's not here?" I asked.
"Yes. He said he's going to be gone the whole weekend."
"With her?"
"I honestly don't know," she replied calmly. "Does it matter?"
"Not really."
Astonishingly, I wasn’t even hurting. Something had healed inside me during these weeks while I was gone. If anything, I was feeling more grateful that the wedding didn’t happen. What a mess that would have been.
"I’ll come with you. Between the two of us, we'll be much faster," Debbie said when we reached the house.
I looked up at it with a sigh. "I honestly won't need that long. I want to take my clothes and that's it."
"If you’re sure you’re okay. But tell me if you change your mind, okay? I'll come back.”
"Debbie, I'm fine, really. Thank you for everything."
"No problem."
"I don't think I can ever repay you for dealing with all the wedding stuff."
She shook her head. "Let's not start that conversation. You're moving on from that shit show. Let's keep it that way."
"You’re right. See you later," I said as I got out of the car.
I wobbled a bit on my feet as I walked toward the house. It felt strange even though I'd lived in it for almost a year. When I entered, I took a deep breath and then immediately realized I wasn't alone. There was the sound of pots being moved around in the kitchen.
My entire body shut down. I was perplexed. Was he home?
I made to turn around and open the front door, but Walter's voice filtered out from the kitchen.
"You're here. Good."
He walked over as I stood rooted to my spot.
"I thought you weren't home," I said.
"Only way I could get Debbie off my back was to lie to her."
Of course. Lying was apparently second nature to him. I instantly got defensive. "Don't you dare talk about Debbie like that."
"Do you know how much of a headache she gave me with canceling all that shit with the fucking wedding? Then she told everyone it was my fault."
"Stop. And she wasn’t lying. It was your fault."
He came closer to me. "You know how much money you owe me?"
I stilled. "Really? For what?"
"For the fucking wedding. Don't think I'm going to be stuck with all the bills."
Crap, Debbie had told me no one was charging us, but maybe she simply didn’t want me to worry.
"If you hadn’t stuck your penis into someone else, or at least had been man enough to tell me what was going on, you wouldn't have this problem in the first place." I flailed my arms wildly.
Walter glanced at them with disdain, but that didn’t deter me. I didn’t need his approval. Damn it, I’d never needed it. I couldn’t believe I’d wasted so much time with this asshole.
"You will pay for your share."
I laughed without humor. "No, I won't. It was your family who wanted a huge-ass wedding to be the spectacle of New Orleans, so it's all on you."
I couldn't believe it. How much more of a jerk could he become? How on earth had I been with him for so long?
But as I stood here in the entrance hall of my former home, I realized that I felt nothing but pure hatred for this man. Not even an ounce of love. Was it because he’d completely trampled on me by behaving the way he did? Or had I stopped loving him long before that?
Whatever it was, it was the closure I needed.
"You know what people are saying about you, right? That you ran off with that Whitley," he sneered.
"I honestly don't even care what they say."
"I do. I've got a reputation in this town. I won't let you ruin it."
I scoffed. "No, you managed that all by yourself. Why did you want to wait here for me, to talk?"
"Because I want to make a few things clear. I bought everything that's in this house."
"I know that," I said. "You've rubbed it in my face every time you could."
"You're not taking anything except the clothes you came with."
That had been my plan anyway, but this was just humiliating.
"I don't plan to rob you, Walter. I want nothing of yours. Absolutely nothing. I'm taking my clothes and my toiletries, and that's it."
The only things I'd bought for this house were some pots for plants, but he could have them.
"Good. And don't go into the guest bedroom."
"Why not?"
"Because I've been living there for a few weeks. We couldn't very well sleep in the master bedroom with all your stuff there."
My lungs froze. I forced myself to take a deep breath, and this time I did feel pain slice through my center.
She's moved in with him already.
The disrespect he was showing for me was palpable, obviously meant to hurt. Knowing she'd moved into the house I'd helped decorate, where I figured we'd spend our newlywed days… it was literally making me sick.
"Just don't go into the guest bedroom," he repeated.
"Got it. Wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole," I said. "Honestly, I don't understand why I ever thought it would work between us, but whatever."
I swallowed hard, stepping to one side.
"Don't take longer than until lunch." He started out the door, then added, “I left the paperwork on the kitchen counter. Sign it, and don’t try to do anything funny or I’ll be after you for breach of contract.”
That shouldn’t be a problem, considering I wanted out of this deal as much as he did. I realized I’d better get moving because the last thing I wanted was to run into his mistress.
Well, I guess she's his girlfriend now, not his mistress. Ugh.
He closed the door so forcefully that I feared it may fall off its hinges.
I exhaled slowly and felt the tension leave my body.
God, being in his presence just had me on edge in a way I hadn't anticipated.
Putting a hand on my chest, I sat on the couch and took in a deep breath, hoping to calm myself.
A few minutes later, I ran upstairs.
Walter had already put a huge suitcase on the bed. Good. All I had to do was fill it up.
A little over an hour later, all of my belongings were in that suitcase. He’d taken all his clothes and moved them, which made it that much easier to pack.
The only other things I left behind were my wedding dress and shoes. The dress was hanging in the closet, mocking me along with my white satin shoes.
Once I zipped up the bag, I sat on the bed, drawing in a deep breath. I was exhausted. I should have had some coffee before coming here.
I bit my lip, glancing at the vanity table I’d bought right when we moved in.
A wave of sadness rolled over me. I couldn’t believe I’d wasted so many years with Walter.
But there was no need to cry over spilled milk.
What was done was done. I was looking forward to the next phase in my life.
And coming back to the city cemented the fact that my future was definitely not here in New Orleans.
I took out my phone, intending to order an Uber, but honestly, I needed a bit of love, so I called Debbie instead.
"I'm already done," I said instead of hello.
"Wow, you’re fast."
"It was easy.”
"I can be in front of the house in about fifteen minutes."
"That works."
"Want a po' boy?"
"Oh my God, yes. Beef, please. I've missed them."
"I'm on my way," she said in a cheerful voice.
I was feeling much better already. Spending some time with my friend was exactly what I needed.
After hanging up, I dragged my huge suitcase out of the bedroom. I eyed the guest bedroom for a few seconds. I had no idea what possessed me to do it, but I let go of the suitcase and walked over.
When I opened the door, my jaw dropped. I’d expected the room to be filled with Walter’s stuff, but it wasn’t.
There was a lady’s suit on the bed and three pair of heels by the window.
My stomach leaped to my throat. He’d said she was staying here, but seeing it made it worse.
I know Debbie initially said she’d thought they were living at her house, but now I knew for sure.
It doesn’t matter, Tory. Not at all.
I immediately stepped out, closing the door. I didn’t need to see more.
I went down the staircase carefully so I wouldn't break my neck, but by the time I reached the bottom, I was pretty sure I’d thrown out my back. I leaned forward and backward, and it made a loud and ominous crack. Then I leaned to my right and my left.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Well, shit.
I straightened up, doing slow circles with my pelvis. Nope, all good. I was still in one piece.
Taking a deep breath, I finally walked into the kitchen.
There was a stack of papers with a pen on top at the right corner of the counter, where I usually stood when I chopped the veggies.
I’d spent a lot of time in this kitchen—it had been my favorite place in the whole house—but I didn't want to think about any of that.
I looked at the contract, reading over it once to make sure there were no stupid hidden clauses. I wouldn't put it past him to make me pay for something, but it all seemed legit, so I signed and put the pen back the way it was.
After looking around one last time, I hurried back to the entrance.
I couldn't get out of the house fast enough.
Stepping outside, I closed the door behind me, locking it, then checking it three times just to make sure.
I put the key in the post box, as Walter instructed, and then trudged with my huge-ass suitcase down the front porch before rolling it to the sidewalk.
I should have told Debbie I'd just take an Uber. I didn't want to wait one more second here. But I saw her turquoise Mini Cooper out of the corner of my eye. She’d arrived much faster than I thought.
After stopping the car right in front of me, she opened the trunk before jumping out of her seat to help me.
"It's better if both of us load up that bad boy. It's huge."
"Yep, it is.”