Chapter 8
Lauren set the suitcases by the door.
“I think it’s best if your mom stays somewhere else for a while,” she said. “Maybe assisted living. Maybe your aunt’s place.”
Daniel looked at the bags.
Then at his wife.
“Put those back.”
Lauren crossed her arms.
“No.”
Daniel’s voice stayed calm.
“This is my mother’s home.”
Lauren laughed.
“It’s our home.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It isn’t.”
That stopped her.
Before deployment, Daniel had bought the house with money from his father’s life insurance and his own savings.
Lauren had moved in after the wedding.
Her name was not on the deed.
He had never used that against her.
He had never wanted to.
Until she packed his sick mother’s clothes like trash.
Lauren’s voice dropped.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already called the attorney.”
Her face went pale.
“Daniel.”
He looked toward the kitchen table where the hospital form still lay.
“You had eight months to call me. Eight months to ask for help. Eight months to tell the truth.”
She shook her head.
“I made mistakes.”
“No,” he said. “A mistake is forgetting an appointment. You hid a medical emergency and humiliated a woman who loved you.”
Lauren began to cry again.
Maybe real.
Maybe not.
Daniel no longer had the strength to sort them.
“I want you out by Friday,” he said.
Her face hardened.
“You’re choosing her over your wife?”
Daniel opened the front door.
“I’m choosing the woman who never made me earn basic kindness.”
Lauren stared at him.
May you like
Then she slapped him.
Read Part 9 to find out how Lauren’s second slap became the final proof Daniel needed.
