But I didn’t show anger.
Not then.
Because something inside me was already calculating.
Olivia leaned forward, eyes shining.
“A house?” she asked. “With a garden?”
Larry perked up like a dog hearing a treat bag.
“If Julie wants a house,” he said loudly, “then fine. We’ll do it.”
Olivia laughed warmly—fake warmth, sugary and poisonous.
“Oh, Larry, you’ll finally be head of your own household,” she cooed.
I swallowed, forcing my voice steady.
“Whose name will the house be under?” I asked.
Larry frowned. “Mine. I’m the head of the household.”
That should’ve been my final warning.
But I nodded.
Because I was already five moves ahead.
I found a house in the countryside—pretty on the outside, “cheap for the size,” with a garden and charming little windows.
It had one problem.
The land was unstable.
The locals knew it.
Old mining tunnels nearby caused gradual sinking. Over time, doors wouldn’t close right. Windows would shift. Foundations would crack.
A beautiful trap for clueless newcomers.
And I made sure Kelly “found” the catalog.
I made sure they got attached.
I let them believe the house was a dream.
Then, right after the purchase, the moment I finally thought I’d be free…
Larry and Olivia stood in my new house grinning like villains.
“They’re moving in,” Larry announced.
And Olivia added, smiling sweetly:
“You wouldn’t say no, would you?”
That was when I said:
“No.”
And that was when Linda—Olivia—slid divorce papers onto my brand-new counter.
Already signed.
The plan was simple.
Force me to accept them living with me, or lose everything.
She thought I’d cave.
She thought I’d beg.
She thought I’d fold like I always did.
She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment.
So I signed.
Quietly.
Calmly.
And then I packed my things and left.
Leaving them with their “dream house.”
The one sinking inch by inch.
The moving day started with silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that feels like the air is holding its breath before something breaks.
I was in my new apartment—small, clean, mine—when the phone began ringing like a fire alarm. One call after another. No breaks. No pause. Just Olivia’s number flashing across my screen again and again like an obsession.
I already knew what day it was.
Their moving day.
The day Olivia, Larry, and Kelly would finally step into that “dream house” they’d bullied me into buying… and realize the dream had teeth.
I let it ring. Twice. Five times. Ten.