“Richard—”
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Richard screamed, a sound so raw and painful it shook the windows.
Evelyn flinched, bursting into a fresh wave of very real tears this time. She looked at me, her eyes shooting daggers of pure, unadulterated hatred. If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. She knew she had lost. The long game she had played for three years—the whispers, the subtle sabotage, the cruel comments—had all been obliterated in a matter of ten minutes.
Without another word, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of the room, trailing her weeping apologies down the hallway. The uncle, Clara, and the neighbors awkwardly followed her out, leaving the front door wide open as they vacated the house, eager to escape the radioactive fallout of the family’s destruction.
Finally, it was just the two of us.
Richard stood in the center of our bedroom, his chest heaving, his head buried in his hands. He began to cry. Deep, chest-racking sobs of a man who realized he had been a blind fool.
“Natalie…” he choked out, walking toward me, his arms extending for a hug. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you. I should have believed you. She… she really tried to kill you. She drugged you. I can’t believe I let her into our lives. Please, Natalie, forgive me.”
I stepped back, avoiding his embrace.
Richard froze, looking at me with pleading, bloodshot eyes. “Natalie?”
“Don’t touch me, Richard,” I said, my voice cold as ice.
“Natalie, please, I know I was wrong,” he begged, dropping to his knees just as his mother had done minutes before. “I was blind. She’s my mother, I couldn’t see it. But I see it now. I threw her out! It’s over. It’s just you and me now. We can fix this.”
“Fix this?” I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “For three weeks, I told you someone was moving my things. For three weeks, I told you someone was sending fake texts from my account. You told me I was stressed. You told me I was paranoid. You told me your mother was a saint. I didn’t just almost get framed tonight, Richard. I almost got violated by a stranger because you refused to open your eyes.”
“I know! I know!” he sobbed. “And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want. We can move away. We can cut her off completely. Just please don’t leave me.”
I looked down at him. The man I thought was my protector. The man who was supposed to be my partner.
“I’m not leaving tonight, Richard,” I said quietly, walking over to the closet. “This is my house too. But you and I? We are done.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed three digits.
