Chapter 10 - The View from the Pearl
Six months later, the early morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my loft in the Pearl District.
The Willamette River shimmered below in the May light, dotted with kayaks and the steady hum of morning commuters.
The house on Elm Street had sold within forty-eight hours of hitting the market, sparking a bidding war that netted nearly eight hundred thousand dollars.
Every penny of the net proceeds had been wired into my personal investment portfolio, completely free of liens or claims.
My phone chimed on the granite kitchen island, displaying an email notification from my attorney.
The final decree of divorce had been signed by the presiding judge, closing the chapter on eleven years of calculated manipulation.
According to mutual acquaintances, Wesley was now working as a junior dispatcher at an independent freight yard in Spokane.
He was living in a cramped one-bedroom basement apartment, sharing the space with Miriam and her mountain of unpaid bills.
I set down my coffee mug and picked up a fresh bouquet of yellow tulips I had purchased at the farmers market downstairs.
I arranged them carefully in a clear glass vase, setting them at the exact center of my new dining table.
There were no folders here, no secret notepads, and no conditional affection waiting to pull the chair from beneath my feet.
May you like
I took a deep, uninterrupted breath of the crisp Northwest morning air and smiled at the quiet serenity of my own home.
The table was set for one, and for the first time in my entire life, it was more than enough.
