At first, I thought something had fallen.
Then Victoria opened the door—wearing my robe.
“You can’t come in,” she said.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
She folded her arms. “Ryan and I discussed it. You need boundaries. A wife should not act like she owns everything.”
I looked past her and saw Ryan leaning against the staircase, smirking.
“Ryan,” I said slowly, “what is this?”
He shrugged. “Mom’s just making a point. You’ve been acting bossy since the house was finished.”
Victoria gestured toward the side gate. “The basement has its own entrance. You can stay there until you learn respect.”
My heart didn’t shatter all at once. It broke in small, sharp fractures. Not because of Victoria—I expected that from her. But Ryan laughing while his mother threw me out of my own home showed me exactly what my marriage had become.
I reached into my purse and pulled out the folder my attorney had prepared two weeks earlier. I hadn’t wanted to use it. I had hoped Ryan would choose me before it came to this.
I tossed the divorce papers at his chest.
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