“I’m making a fire, Ethan,” I said, my voice steady, as smooth and cold as the surface of a frozen lake. “It’s a bit chilly in Denver this morning. Much colder than Maui, I’d imagine.”
“Are you insane?” he screamed, his panic and rage fighting for dominance. In the background, I could hear Patricia’s shrill wailing and Lauren shouting something to a ticket agent about pressing charges. “Do you have any idea how much this trip cost? The non-refundable deposits? Claire, we are standing in front of the TSA checkpoint!”
“I know,” I replied, taking a slow sip of the coffee I had poured just moments before. “And I also know that Patricia doesn’t have a medical appointment in California, and Lauren isn’t visiting friends.”
Dead silence fell over the line. Even Patricia’s wailing abruptly stopped.
“I saw the iPad, Ethan,” I said, letting the words hang in the heavy morning air.
He stuttered, his perfectly constructed facade crumbling in real-time. “Claire… sweetheart, listen. We just… Mom thought you’d be stressed out by the flight. We wanted a family-only thing to sort out the estate. It’s not what you think.”
“A family-only thing,” I repeated. “Right. Well, since I’m not family, I decided to handle my own affairs. By the way, while you were all coordinating your lies for three weeks, I was busy too.”
“What do you mean?” The arrogance had completely drained from his voice, replaced by a creeping, cold dread.
“I filed for divorce on Thursday. My lawyer said you should be served at work by Monday,” I said casually, watching the gold emblem on his passport turn into gray ash. “Also, you might want to check the joint checking account. I transferred my exact half—including my portion of the money you secretly siphoned from our savings to pay for your ‘family-only’ luxury resort.”
“Claire, wait, you can’t—”
“Oh, and Ethan?” I interrupted. “The house locks have been changed. The security alarm code is different. I’ve packed two suitcases of your essentials and left them on the front porch. I suggest you come get them before the neighborhood strays start marking them.”
“You can’t do this! This is my house too!”
“Tell it to the judge,” I whispered. “Have a great staycation.”
I ended the call and blocked his number. Then, I blocked Patricia and Lauren for good measure.
I stood in the quiet morning air, watching the last of the blue covers disintegrate into glowing embers. For the first time in years, I took a deep breath that felt entirely my own. The smell of burning paper was infinitely better than the scent of his lies. I walked back inside my quiet, peaceful house, finally ready for a vacation of my own.
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