“I’m so stupid,” she murmured.
“No,” I replied firmly. “You’re not stupid. You’re loyal. You loved the wrong people, in the wrong way.”
Then she began to cry, not quietly this time, but with deep, heart-wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. I held her as I had after her first heartbreak in high school, after her father left, after every time life had been too heavy for her fragile shoulders.
Once the storm had passed, I opened the last envelope.
“Here are the deeds,” I said. “The house. The business. They’re in my name now.”
She was looking at me.
“You bought them?” she asked.
“I bought their debt,” I replied. “That allowed me to become the owner. I did it so I could trust you with everything.”
“Mom, this is everything you’ve worked for,” she said incredulously. “You can’t just give it to me like that.”
“I didn’t do it out of nobility,” I said quietly. “I did it because I couldn’t sleep knowing my daughter was being treated like a servant in a house I was practically paying for.”
“What are we going to do?” she murmured.
“Tomorrow we’ll go into that house,” I said, “and tell them the truth.” Taking back power.
We arrived at ten in the morning.
Grace was wearing a simple navy blue dress we had bought together the day before. Her hair was loose over her shoulders. She seemed nervous, but a newfound confidence shone in her chin.
I carried the file.
Judith and Nathan were sitting at the table when we came in, with cups of coffee and a newspaper between them. They looked up, surprised to see us together.
“Grace, where were you last night?” Nathan asked sharply. “We tried calling you.”
“I was with my mother,” she said softly but clearly. “And I’m not going to explain myself any further.”
He frowned.
“Let’s all sit down,” I said. “We need to talk.”
Judith crossed her arms.
“I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re trying to stir up in my house,” she began, “but…”
“This isn’t your house anymore,” I said calmly, placing the documents on the table. “Not anymore.”
Nathan let out a small, incredulous laugh.
“What is this supposed to be?” he asked, picking up the first page, and froze when he saw the title.
“Here are the new deeds,” I said. “I’ve bought your mortgage. I’ve bought your business loans. I now own everything you owe. Legally, this house and Reed Global Imports are mine.”
Judith’s face went pale. “You’re lying,” he muttered.
“Call your lawyer,” I told him. “If you still have one. Every transaction is recorded and sealed.”
Nathan silently flipped through the pages. I could see his hands trembling.
“Why did you do that?” he finally asked.
“Because my daughter has supported you for years,” I replied. “Because you used the money I sent her to save your failing business, while she was washing your floors. Because you smiled at me and called me your ‘queen’ while you were feeding another woman in another apartment.”
Grace placed the photos of him and Lauren on the table.
“What is this, Nathan?” she asked quietly. “Explain it to me like I’m stupid, since you’ve been treating me like this for years.”
His mouth opened and closed.
“It was a mistake,” he stammered. “It didn’t mean anything. I was really stressed and…”
“No,” I interrupted. You have no right to blame stress. You made this decision. You chose her. You chose to let your mother speak to me as if I were less than human. You chose to let myself be destroyed by a family that never stood up for me.
Judith slammed her fist on the table.
“We welcomed you,” she retorted. “We gave you a name, a home…”
“You gave me a room that feels like a storage unit,” Grace replied, her voice trembling but rising. “You gave me homework. You insulted me. You never respected me.”
I looked at them both. “You have until 6 p.m. this afternoon to vacate this house,” I said. “Afterward, I will ask the authorities to explain to you what the word ‘eviction’ means.”
“You can’t do that,” Nathan said. “We’re a family.”
“You had eight years to act like a family,” I replied. “You chose not to. Now, I choose my daughter.”
Grace took her small suitcase from the door: the only bag she’d needed during eight years of marriage.
Nathan walked toward her.
“Grace, don’t go,” he pleaded. “We can fix this. I’ll change.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“I don’t want you to change for me,” she said softly. “I want a life where I don’t have to beg a man not to hurt me.”
Then he turned and walked out the front door.
I followed him.
We didn’t look back.
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