Chapter 3 - The Empty House
Three days later, I was finally discharged from the hospital.
I refused to let Robert pick me up, calling my sister, Sarah, to come get me instead.
She drove me back to the massive suburban house that now felt like a sprawling crime scene.
Robert was sitting on the front porch steps, looking like a hollow shell of the confident man I once knew.
He hadn't shaved, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
"Elena, please," he begged as Sarah helped me out of the car.
"Let me help you inside."
"Don't touch her," Sarah snapped, positioning herself between me and my estranged husband.
I walked past him in silence, my bandaged hands tucked safely into the pockets of a heavy winter coat.
The house was eerily quiet, the remnants of our shattered life scattered everywhere.
Julian's room had been torn apart by the police, looking for any clues to his whereabouts.
I walked into the master bedroom and immediately began packing a suitcase with my undamaged hands.
"What are you doing?" Robert asked, hovering in the doorway like a lost child.
"I'm leaving, Robert," I said coldly, not bothering to look at him.
"You can't leave," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face again.
"I lost my son, I lost my money, I can't lose you too."
"You lost me the moment you locked that door," I reminded him, zipping the suitcase shut.
"You chose your son's lies over my truth."
"Now you get to live with the consequences of that choice."
Sarah grabbed my bags, shooting Robert a look of pure disgust before leading me out to her car.
As we drove away, I looked back at the house one last time.
May you like
Robert was standing in the driveway, completely alone in the freezing cold.
It was exactly where he deserved to be.
