Silence followed.
Then her voice cooled.
“You know, Daniel and I might still work things out. It would help if you encouraged him instead of making yourself the victim.”
There she was.
Not remorseful.
Strategic.
“Vanessa,” I said, “I did not tell Daniel to leave you.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“No,” I replied. “You did that yourself.”
She ended the call.
I never spoke with her again.
According to Daniel’s attorney, an annulment was not possible, but the divorce moved quickly because they had no children, shared house, or significant joint property.
Vanessa argued over wedding gifts, deposits, and money her parents claimed they had spent.
Daniel returned what was reasonable and rejected the rest.
The lake house never appeared in the legal proceedings.
Six months later, spring arrived softly in South Carolina.
One Saturday morning, I drove alone to Marion Lake.
The house looked smaller than it had in my memories, but stronger than grief.
