Chapter 7 - The Implosion
Two weeks later, the final blow to their relationship landed.
I was sitting in my living room—my living room, since the house was in my name before the marriage—drinking tea, when my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Evelyn. It’s Chloe." Her voice was tiny, fragile, and utterly broken.
I didn't hang up. I wanted to hear this. "What do you want?"
"He left me," Chloe sobbed. "Julian. The money completely ran out. He blamed me for everything. He said if I hadn't been so demanding, he would still have his house and his kid. He took my car keys and left me at the motel. I have nowhere to go. Mom and Dad won't return my calls."
She was waiting for me to be the big sister. To sigh, tell her she was an idiot, and send an Uber to pick her up. That was our dynamic for thirty years. I fix things. I heal people.
"That sounds like a very difficult situation, Chloe," I said, my voice clinically detached.
"Can I... can I just stay on your couch? Just for a few nights? Please, Evie. I'm so scared."
I looked at the oak dining table. I looked at the exact spot on the floor where I had found Maya shivering.
"You wore a size eight red boot," I said softly.
"What?" she sniffled, confused.
"When you came into my house to sleep with my husband, you wore those tacky red boots. You kicked them off in my foyer. Did you know Maya told me she tripped over them in the dark when she was trying to hide from you?"
Silence on the other end of the line.
May you like
"You made your bed, Chloe," I said. "Now freeze in it."
I hung up the phone. I blocked the number. I felt a massive, heavy weight lift off my chest, evaporating into the ether. I was finally, truly free.
