Chapter 5 - The Collapse of the Queen
Exactly twenty minutes later, the front door violently swung open again.
Elena marched into the house, carrying four massive shopping bags from wildly expensive boutique stores, entirely funded by Nathan’s maxed-out credit cards.
"Babe, you will not believe the horrific traffic on the interstate today!" Elena complained loudly, kicking off her designer heels.
She walked into the living room, still looking down at her perfectly manicured nails, before she finally looked up.
The shopping bags slipped from her hands, crashing loudly onto the bare floor, spilling expensive silk blouses everywhere.
"Nathan?!" Elena shrieked, her voice reaching a pitch so high it nearly distorted my camera's microphone.
"What happened to the house? Were we completely robbed?!"
Nathan was sitting helplessly on the bare kitchen floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, staring blankly at the wall.
He looked like a pathetic, broken little boy who had just realized monsters were absolutely real.
"We weren't robbed, Elena," Nathan muttered, his voice completely hollow and devoid of any previous arrogance.
"My mother sold the entire house out from under us today."
Elena let out a dramatic, exaggerated gasp, stomping her bare feet furiously on the cold hardwood.
"She can't do that! This is our house, you specifically told me this was our house!" she screamed, her face turning bright red.
"My name wasn't on the deed, Elena," Nathan admitted, finally vocalizing the terrible truth he had been desperately trying to ignore.
"She took the money, she took all the furniture, and she gave us twenty-four hours to get out before the new owners call the cops."
Elena rushed over, snatched the crumpled note from his hands, and read it frantically.
"You absolute idiot!" Elena suddenly roared, entirely turning on him with the vicious speed of a starving hyena.
"I told you not to hit her this morning! I told you she was a crazy, vindictive old bat!"
I actually chuckled out loud in the airport lounge; Elena had absolutely never told him not to hit me, she had practically cheered him on.
But watching them immediately turn on each other in the face of absolute ruin was sweeter than any dessert I could ever order.
"Where are we supposed to go?!" Elena cried hysterically, pulling at her perfectly styled hair.
"We have exactly eighty-four dollars in our joint checking account, Nathan!"
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Nathan slowly buried his face in his trembling hands, entirely broken by the sheer magnitude of my quiet, devastating revenge.
"I don't know, Elena," he sobbed weakly, "I just don't know."
