“Curtis,” I said, my voice steady. “You’re right about one thing. Pain makes us see things clearly. And I see everything very clearly now.”
“Vanessa, please!” he sobbed, dropping to his knees on the office floor. “Don’t do this to me! I’m your husband!”
“Not anymore,” I replied. “You said it yourself—I don’t fit into your life.”
I turned to the lawyer.
—Mr. Sterling, when can I take possession of the house?
—Today, Mrs. Vanessa. The locks will be changed within the hour.
“Perfect,” I said, turning toward the door.
“Vanessa! You can’t leave me out on the street!” Curtis shouted behind me, crawling. “What am I going to do?!”
I stopped at the doorway, without turning around.
“You have $2,000 a month, Curtis. I suggest you learn how to budget. Or maybe… you could look for a job. I hear they always need nurses. Perhaps that way you’ll learn what it’s like to really care for someone.”
I left the office and felt the sun on my face. The air had never been so fresh. Not because of the money—though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t help—but because, for the first time in my life, justice had been served.
I got into my car. It no longer felt like a place to hide and cry, but the vehicle of my new life. As I started the engine, I saw Curtis in the rearview mirror stumbling out of the building, shouting into his phone, probably cursing someone else.
I smiled.
His smile had vanished forever.
But mine had just begun.
