My only child.
The boy I had raised alone after his father left when he was seven.
The boy whose tuition I paid by working double shifts at the hospital.
The man who had gradually stopped answering my calls whenever Vanessa was beside him.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“Guess you don’t count.”
Something inside me became completely still.
I was not furious.
I was not shattered.
I was simply done.
I looked once more at the trash cans, then at the envelope in my hand.
Inside was not a honeymoon check, an appliance, or jewelry.
It held the deed to the lake house my parents had left me, already prepared for transfer into Daniel’s name as a wedding gift.
I slipped the envelope back into my purse.
Vanessa’s smile faltered.
“What are you doing?”
I gave her no answer.
I turned and walked down the stone path toward the valet stand. My heels struck the pavement in a calm, even rhythm.
