All signed.
All ready.
I placed the folder carefully into my purse.
The next morning, I got dressed slowly.
I chose a blue dress.
Simple.
Elegant.
I curled my hair, put on light makeup.
When I walked into the dining room that evening, the table was full.
Laughter, clinking glasses, plates piled with food I had paid for.
Vivien was in her element.
“Look at my son,” she said. “Thirty-six and still so youthful, so proud.”
Rachel had her camera out, snapping pictures.
Eric stood to make a toast.
“To the woman who’s always been by my side. My rock. My Nina.”
Everyone clapped.
Vivien chuckled and turned to me.
“What’s it like being a failure, Nina?” she asked, raising her glass.
Everyone laughed.
Except me.
I just smiled and said, “What’s it like knowing this failure won’t pay your bills anymore?”
And just like that, everything stopped.
The silence that followed my words was deafening.
You could have heard a fork drop.
Vivien stared at me like I had slapped her across the face.
Rachel’s jaw was wide open, frozen mid-bite.
Eric looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or panic.
“What? What do you mean by that?” Vivien finally asked, her voice a little shaky.
I reached into my purse and slowly pulled out the folder.
I didn’t raise my voice.
I didn’t cry.
I didn’t beg for respect like I used to.
I simply placed three sealed envelopes on the table.
One in front of Eric.
One in front of Vivien.
One in front of Rachel.
“What is this?” Eric asked.
“Everything,” I said. “Everything I’ve been holding in for the past nine years. You should open it.”
Vivien snatched her envelope and tore it open.
As her eyes scanned the papers, her face turned from confusion to horror.
“This is… What is this? An eviction notice?” she gasped.
I nodded.
“I own the lease, the one you thought Eric was managing. It’s been in my name since year two of our marriage. I paid the deposit. I paid every month’s rent. You and Rachel have 30 days to leave.”
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