Ezoic
I narrated every room.
When I got to the mirror, I couldn’t talk. I just held the phone over it for a long time. You can hear me breathing on the recording. That’s all.
For months, the house had felt less like a home and more like another box on a legal spreadsheet. Line 14: Marital Residence. Line 15: Vehicles. Line 16: Household Furnishings.
Brian wanted it sold. Split down the middle. Done.
I wanted to keep it.
Not because it was worth so much. It wasn’t a fancy house. But I’d planted the hydrangeas out front. I’d picked the red door. I’d cried in the pale green guest room after our second miscarriage, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, and I’d gotten up again. It was where I’d become a grown-up. I didn’t want to lose that too.
