Chapter 2: Hotel
That night, we checked into a modest hotel near downtown.
Mom was still shaken by everything that had happened.
“Are you really going to divorce him?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.”
She reached for my hand.
“Then I’m not going to leave you alone.”
My friend Claire, who was a lawyer, arrived shortly afterward.
The moment she saw my mother, her entire expression changed.
“Tomorrow we’re going to the doctor, and then we’re filing a report,” she said. “And Elena, don’t delete a single thing. Messages, bank statements, emails, account activity. Nothing.”
Brandon started texting me almost immediately.
“When you get over your anger, come home.”
A few minutes later:
“I can apologize, but your mother isn’t exactly innocent either.”
Then finally:
“Go ahead with your little drama. Let’s see who ends up regretting it.”
I didn’t answer.
I sat on the edge of the hotel bed while my mother rested and Claire made quiet calls from the hallway. The grocery bag I had carried into the apartment was still sitting on Brandon’s table. The keys I had left beside it were the last piece of access I intended to give him.
May you like
Seven years had ended in the time it took me to count to five.
What remained was the practical work of making sure the ending stayed permanent.
