The mansion wasn’t his.
My father’s trust had purchased it before our marriage, and the title remained entirely in my name.
By Thursday morning, I had a cash buyer.
By Friday afternoon, the contracts were ready.
The offer was slightly below market value.
I didn’t care.
I signed anyway.
Then my phone lit up.
Ryan.
For the first time in three days, my husband was finally calling me.
I let it ring.
A second message appeared from the realtor.
Funds confirmed. Closing complete. New owner takes possession today.
Then Ryan texted:
Landing tonight. We need to talk. Norah is coming home with me.
I stared at those words and smiled for the first time since seeing his wedding photographs.
Because Ryan still thought he had a home to come back to.
Ryan called again.
I watched his name flash across my screen.
Then disappear.
He called a third time.
