He said nothing.
“You told me you were helping pay for it.”
Silence.
I opened the mortgage records.
“Show me one payment you made toward this house in the last twelve months.”
He couldn’t.
I already knew why.
Because there wasn’t one.
Every payment had come from my account.
Every month.
For three years.
The house wasn’t simply where we lived.
It was the one thing I had built that was truly mine.
Nathan had been living inside it while secretly planning a life somewhere else.
I stood.
“You have until tonight.”
His eyes widened.
“Tonight for what?”
“To collect your things.”
“You can’t kick me out.”
“Watch me.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“You are not going to destroy my son’s marriage.”
I looked at her.
“Your son destroyed his marriage.”
“He made mistakes.”
“Your son lied to me for eighteen months.”
“He was under pressure.”
