So she packed our lives into suitcases and left without hesitation.
I remembered the pain of that moment, but also the relief. I had not lost her completely. She chose me. Leaving was easy for her. The house belonged to my father. There was nothing there she wanted to save.
We ended up in Michigan, renting a small apartment. She worked long hours at a department store. Life was hard, but survivable. She supported me through my pregnancy, even while sinking into her own quiet despair. Each day, the spark faded a little more. She smiled sometimes, but it never reached her eyes.
She lived, but she was no longer alive in the way she once was.
I showered, made coffee, and ate a slice of pie Eva had left behind. With no plans and too many thoughts, I drove to the one place I had been avoiding.
My childhood home.
The two storey house stood exactly as I remembered. Fresh paint. Neatly trimmed hedges. And yet, it felt like nothing more than a shell. It stopped being mine the day my parents divorced. My gaze fell to the garden. What had once been rows of white roses, my mother’s pride, was now overrun with weeds and broken pots.
She never gardened again after we left. Some losses never healed.
A wooden sign lay crooked on the lawn.
SOLD.
Final. Absolute.
I swallowed.
This house once held love. Now it belonged to someone else.
Or so I thought.
“You are trespassing.”
The voice sliced through my thoughts.
I turned.
Ashton Miller stood at the edge of the yard, sunlight catching on his expensive watch. He looked polished and untouchable. Clean shaven. Tailored suit. Control radiating from him. The boy I loved had laughed easily, kissed me without hesitation.
This man looked at me like a problem he intended to erase.
“Trespassing?” I said. “On my own house?”
“Not yours anymore.” His voice was calm. Distant. “You should not be here.”
The words stung.
“Funny,” I said. “That is what you told me yesterday.”
“This is not a game, Bailey.”
He stepped closer. Too close.
His cologne hit me, familiar enough to tighten my chest. My body betrayed me before my mind could stop it.
“This house belongs to me now.”
My breath caught. “What?”
He gestured toward the sign.
Understanding crashed into me.
