He adjusted his suit—yes, the one I’d helped him buy for his first job interview—like he was preparing to close a deal.
“The market is hot, Claire,” he said. “We need to strike while the iron is hot. We’ll use the equity to pay for the facility, and we can… manage the rest of your assets for you.”
Manage.
That word landed harder than the price tag.
Because “manage” wasn’t about helping.
It was about control.
Then he smiled—smug, satisfied, already spending money that wasn’t his.
“We’re bringing a realtor Wednesday at 10:00 AM to sign papers. Have the deed ready.”
He stood up like the decision was done.
They left without coffee.
Without dessert.
Without even checking if I was okay.
I watched his BMW taillights disappear down the street.
And I thought for exactly ten minutes.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
