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He texted daily pleasantries.I replied once:“When can you vacate the condo?”
I kept his number unblocked so that we could coordinate the handover.
He dodged the question.
No rush—my lawyer was ready.
One day,he asked what Mom liked to eat.
I ignored the weirdness.
That night,he said we could discuss the condo,suggesting a cafémeeting with a“surprise.”
I cared about the condo,not coffee.
I replied,“No need—I’m coming now.We’ll talk at the condo.”
The message failed to send because of a poor signal.
When I knocked,Liam looked startled.“Natalie…you’re here?”
I pushed past,checking the place.
It was worse—clutter everywhere,dirty clothes on the sofa.
I frowned.
At the dining table,Ashley and her mom laughed over dinner.
“Liam,you said it’s move-out time.Why are they still here?”
“Waiting for me to hire movers to drag them out?”
Ashley’s mom got angry.“A single woman needs a big condo?You’re not young—marriage isn’t guaranteed.After Liam’s years with you,sign it over to him.”
“When he and Ashley have kids,you’ll be the godmother. Then you won't have to eat lonely dinners in your old age.”
Her greed made me laugh.
I spotted steaming chicken noodle soup on the table,grinned,and dumped it over her head.
Noodles dripped from her hair,her face a mess.
I snapped photos,posting them online.“Mrs. Brooks, it's so boring to eat in someone else's home. You might as well skip meals. I'll burn incense for you in the living room.”
She shook,noodles trembling,comical.“Liam,throw this lunatic out!”
Liam ignored her,grabbing my hand,pleading.“Natalie,stop being mad.Tomorrow,I’ll toss their stuff.You’re the lady of this house—I’ll do anything!”
His begging mirrored my old self.
Too late.
Some things don’t get second chances.
“Three days left until my deadline,”I said,eyes cold.“Don’t move,and I’ll have everything hauled out.”
“And you,Liam—you’re trash,too.Belong in a dumpster.”
