“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I said calmly.
“Why not?”
“We’ll talk when you get home.”
Before he could ask another question, I ended the call.
Every trace of him was gone.
Outside on the sidewalk, my phone buzzed.
David: Landing tomorrow at noon. Can’t wait to see the kids❤️
I typed back one word.
Rachel: Safe travels.
Then I drove home. The house finally belonged to me and my children. The porch light was on, the garage held his neatly labeled boxes, and every trace of him was gone.
At noon tomorrow, they would walk through that door expecting the life they left behind.
“How dare you!”
The car pulled into the driveway just after noon. I watched from the kitchen window as David and Brenda stepped out, tanned, laughing, dragging designer luggage behind them.
Brenda pushed through the front door first. She saw the empty spot where David’s recliner used to be, the bare walls, the missing photos. Her bags hit the floor.
