“Thank you. You did an excellent job. And I’m especially grateful for the photographs of you and Daniel embracing so tenderly. They were extremely useful when I had to convince the investors that he was no longer a reliable business partner.”
Daniel’s gaze moved from me to Claire, then back again.
His mouth opened and closed several times, as if language had abruptly abandoned him.
In a matter of minutes, the world he had taken for granted collapsed before his eyes.
The bakeries.
The house.
The money.
His intoxicating sense of control.
Everything was gone.
All that remained was his stunned mother and the unbearable realization that the woman he had compared to a piece of furniture had outplayed him completely.
“But… you agreed to let her stay here!” he finally rasped, gripping the edge of the table.
“I still don’t object, Danny. You’re welcome to live here together.”
For one brief second, relief flickered across his face.
“However, new tenants are arriving tomorrow morning. I’ve already rented the house to a company hosting a large celebration here. So you have about ten minutes to gather what you need and leave the property.”
I glanced toward Margaret.
“Don’t forget your mother. Somehow, I think a small apartment on the outskirts of town would suit her perfectly.”
I walked out onto the porch.
A few minutes later, Daniel appeared by the gate.
He was carrying Claire’s suitcase—the one she had somehow left behind in her panic.
I watched quietly as he tried to force her belongings into the trunk of his aging car.
For the first time in ten years of marriage, I felt no pity for him.
Not even a trace.
Only a cold, steady disgust.
I was no longer a convenient piece of furniture that could be dragged from one corner of life to another whenever someone grew bored.
That evening, I finally cleared out the old, rotten garbage that had occupied far too much space in my life.