That’s what really threw Harrison off, because he was used to my attempts at negotiation or my sad silences. Alejandro was used to me keeping the peace for the children, but that afternoon I wasn’t arguing; I was taking action.
When Monica left, Harrison closed the door harder than necessary and told me I had lost my mind over a car. I told him it wasn’t about the car, and when he asked why, I looked at him for a few seconds.
We had been married for eleven years and I had been there through every business dinner, funeral, and sleepless night. I had held up his schedule and his image as a decisive man, yet he still saw me as someone who didn’t contribute.
“Because you’ve made it clear to me what my value is to you,” I explained. Harrison ran a hand through his hair and began pacing around the room.
“Look, Tiffany has problems. You know that. She just needed the car for a few weeks,” Harrison said. I told him that he should have lent her his own car instead.
Harrison remained silent because he knew I was right. “Exactly,” I said, “but you didn’t give her yours. You gave her mine.”
His phone rang at that moment with Tiffany’s name on the screen, but he declined the call. Harrison told me we would sort it out and promised I would have my car back tomorrow.
“It’s no longer about returning keys,” I said. I took a copy of the deeds from the display case and placed it on the coffee table.
“I spoke with a lawyer this morning. The house is my separate property and I can sell it. I’ve also scheduled an appointment to review our assets,” I informed him.
Harrison’s face changed from indignation to a very real fear as he realized I had already consulted a lawyer. “You wouldn’t really do this,” he whispered. “I’m already doing it,” I replied.
That night he slept in the guest room, and early the next morning, I found my Range Rover parked in front of the house. Tiffany was sitting behind the wheel wearing sunglasses with her lips pressed tightly together.
Tiffany got out of the car and told me I had gone too far. “Give me back the keys and the papers,” I demanded.
“My brother was just trying to help me,” Tiffany insisted. I told her that he was helping her with something that didn’t belong to him.
Tiffany left the keys on the counter but didn’t move. She asked if I was really going to sell the house because of this.