Chapter 6
I left the courtroom feeling lighter than I had in years.
Marcus walked beside me, a rare smile on his face. "That went better than I could have hoped. Judge Albright hates men who abuse their wives and steal from children. Grant couldn't have picked a worse judge to piss off."
"What happens next?" I asked.
"Next, the criminal investigation heats up," Marcus said. "Detective Alvarez will want to interview Grant and Vanessa. The financial records will go to the DA's office. The fraud charges alone could put him away for ten years. Add the domestic assault, and we're looking at fifteen, maybe twenty."
I nodded, but my mind was already elsewhere.
I was thinking about the house in Greenwich. The sprawling estate I'd designed myself, every detail chosen with care. The rose garden I'd planted when we first moved in. The library where I'd worked late into the night, building Meridian Capital while Grant slept.
I needed to go back.
"Marcus," I said. "I need to go to the house. I have things there I need to get."
Marcus frowned. "Vivian, the restraining order says Grant can't come near you, but he's probably still there. It's not safe."
"I'm not afraid of him," I said. "Not anymore. And I'm not going alone. You'll come with me. And I'll have security meet us there. I just need a few hours. To get my things. To close that chapter of my life."
Marcus hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. But we go in, we get your things, and we get out. No conversations. No confrontations. In and out."
"Agreed."
We arrived at the estate an hour later. Two security guards Marcus had hired met us at the gate.
The house looked the same as it always had. Perfect. Manicured. A monument to the life I'd built and the lie I'd been living.
We walked up the front steps. Before I could open the door, it swung open.
Vanessa stood there.
She was wearing my clothes again. A cashmere sweater that had been a birthday gift from Claire. Jeans that fit her poorly. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red and puffy. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.
"Vivian," she whispered.
I stared at her. "What are you doing here?"
"Grant asked me to stay," she said, her voice trembling. "He said... he said you wouldn't dare come back. That the house was his now."
"The house is mine," I said, my voice cold. "I bought it. I paid for it. Every brick, every window, every blade of grass on that lawn. Grant's name isn't even on the deed. He has no right to be here. And neither do you."
I stepped past her into the foyer. The scent of her cheap perfume hit me, and I had to fight the urge to gag.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"In his study," Vanessa said, trailing after me. "Vivian, please. Can we talk? Just for a minute. I need you to understand—"
"There's nothing to understand," I said, not stopping. "You betrayed me. You helped my husband plan to destroy me. You wore my clothes, you slept in my bed, you ate my food. You wanted my life. Well, look at it now. This is what's left. Enjoy."
Grant stormed out of the study at the sound of my voice. His face was purple with rage.
"What are you doing here?" he shouted. "There's a restraining order!"
"The restraining order says you can't come near me," I said calmly. "It doesn't say I can't come to my own house. I'm here to get my things. Then I'm leaving. And if you're smart, you'll be gone by the time I get back with the moving trucks tomorrow."
"You can't do this," Grant said, his voice rising. "This is my house! My life! You can't just walk in here and—"
"I can, and I will," I interrupted. "Because everything you think is yours? It's mine. Every last thing. And I'm taking it all back. The house. The cars. the art. The furniture. Even the sheets you fucked her on. I'm having it all hauled away and burned. You want to build a life with Vanessa? Good. Start from scratch. Just like I did."
I turned to walk up the stairs.
"Vivian, wait!" Vanessa cried. She grabbed my arm.
I wrenched it away from her, my movement sharp and sudden. She stumbled back, her eyes wide.
"Don't you ever touch me again," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "The last person who touched me without permission ended up in a courtroom today. You want to be next?"
She shrank back, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I loved you, Vivian. You were my best friend."
"You loved what I had," I corrected. "You loved my house, my husband, my money, my status. You never loved me. Because if you had, you never would have done what you did."
I walked up the stairs to the master bedroom.
I didn't look at the bed. I didn't need to. The memory was burned into my brain forever.
I went straight to the closet. I pulled out the suitcases I kept for business trips and started filling them. Not everything. Just the essentials. My favorite clothes. The jewelry my grandmother had left me. The photo albums from before Grant.
Marcus stood in the doorway, watching my back. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said, folding a dress. "Better than fine. I'm free."
I paused, my hand resting on a small wooden box on the top shelf of the closet. I pulled it down and opened it.
Inside was a stack of letters. Tied with a blue ribbon. Letters from Grant, from when we were first dating. Long, passionate letters about how I was the love of his life, how he'd never hurt me, how he'd spend forever making me happy.
I stared at them for a long moment.
Then I carried them into the bathroom, opened the lid of the toilet, and dropped them in.
I flushed.
I watched the letters swirl away, disappearing into the darkness.
Goodbye, Grant.
I walked back into the bedroom, picked up my suitcases, and headed for the door.
Grant and Vanessa were standing at the bottom of the stairs, huddled together like two lost children.
I paused on the landing, looking down at them.
"You know what the worst part is?" I said, my voice echoing in the silent foyer. "I would have given you everything. If you'd just been honest. If you'd come to me and said, 'Vivian, I'm not happy. I love someone else. I want a divorce.' I would have given you money. I would have made sure you were taken care of. I would have walked away and let you be happy."
My voice hardened.
May you like
"But you didn't do that. You decided to lie. To cheat. To steal. To try to destroy me so you could have it all. And now? You have nothing. And it's all your fault."
I walked down the stairs and out the front door, not looking back.
