Chapter 3 - Changing the Locks
By noon, the house was mine again.
Evelyn had left after detailing the legal boundaries of the restraining order. David lingered, awkwardly pacing my living room.
"I can stay a few days," David offered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just to make sure he doesn't try anything stupid."
"No, David," I said, handing him his coat. "You don't get to play the protector now. You left when things got hard. I stayed and took the brunt of it. I’m handling this my way."
He nodded, ashamed, and took an Uber to a hotel.
An hour later, the locksmith arrived. He replaced every deadbolt, every window latch, and the garage code. A security company came shortly after, installing cameras at every entrance.
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That night, I sat in the center of my living room. There was no heavy stomping upstairs. There was no smell of stale beer wafting from the basement. There was no underlying hum of anxiety, waiting for the front door to violently swing open.
I ordered a pizza. I poured a glass of wine. I watched a terrible romantic comedy, and when I finally went to sleep, I slept through the entire night without waking up in a cold sweat. It was the most profound peace I had ever known.
