Chapter 7 - The Collapse of Wesley's Pride
Wesley lunged toward the attorney, waving his arms frantically.
"You can't sell this house! My grandfather built the deck in the backyard! My entire life is in this house!"
"Your grandfather didn't pay off the construction lien that was filed against the foundation last spring, Mr. Chen," Marcus replied without blinking.
"Your wife did. With her own non-marital funds from her maternal estate."
Miriam leaned against the wall, her polished facade completely disintegrating into tears of fury and despair.
"Where are we supposed to go? Hotels are booked for the holiday weekend! My furniture is in a moving van outside Portland!"
"There's an extended-stay motel on Highway 217," I offered evenly, putting on my woolen trench coat from the coat rack.
"They have weekly rates, and they don't ask for employment verification or credit checks."
Wesley looked at me, his eyes brimming with genuine tears for the very first time in our eleven-year relationship.
"Renata... please. We were married for over a decade. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"It meant everything to me until I found Miriam's notepad by the sink eight months ago," I answered, buttoning my coat.
"You spent eleven years letting me carry the financial and emotional weight of this household while planning to discard me like old furniture."
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"You wanted a clean break by New Year's, Wesley," I said, pulling on my leather gloves.
"I’m just giving you an early holiday present."
