Chapter 2 - The Eviction
"You’re kicking me out?" Tyler lunged forward, his fists balling up at his sides.
Before he could take a second step, Officer Martinez was on his feet, his hand resting casually but purposefully on his utility belt. "I wouldn't take another step toward your mother, son. Not unless you want to leave in handcuffs instead of my cruiser."
Tyler stopped. For the first time in his life, his physical intimidation meant absolutely nothing. He looked at me, his eyes wide with a mix of betrayal and sheer disbelief. He was waiting for me to crack. He was waiting for the mother who always cleaned up his messes to step in, burst into tears, and call the whole thing off.
I sat calmly, sipping my coffee. The porcelain cup didn't even rattle against the saucer.
"Mom. Tell them this is a joke," he demanded, his voice cracking.
"The only joke, Tyler," I said evenly, "is that I let it go on this long. Fifteen minutes. I suggest you start packing."
He turned to his father. "Dad, come on. Are you going to let her do this to me?"
David looked down at his hands. "You hit her, Tyler. She sent me the pictures. I can't... I can't protect you from this."
With a guttural scream of frustration, Tyler kicked the hallway wall, leaving a massive dent in the drywall, and stormed up the stairs. Officer Martinez followed close behind him to ensure he only took what was his.
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Ten minutes later, Tyler came back down carrying a duffel bag. He didn't look at me. He walked out the front door, slamming it so hard the windows rattled.
The silence that followed was deafening. I looked at the dent in the wall, and for the first time in ten years, I felt a massive, suffocating weight lift off my chest.
