Harrison appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking pale with his shirt half buttoned. For the first time, it was he who spoke with a breaking voice, begging me not to sell the house.
I didn’t answer right away while I finished getting the children ready for school. Harrison was still standing there while Tiffany watched the scene with a mixture of insolence and victimhood.
“The children go into school in twenty minutes. I’m not going to do this in front of them,” I said. Caitlyn understood more than a nine year old should, while Lucas only sensed the tension.
I took them in the small car and dropped them off at school. When I returned, Tiffany was gone, but Harrison was waiting in the living room with the documents.
“I spoke with an advisor. I know you can legally sell it,” Harrison blurted out. I told him I was glad he was finally taking an interest in the papers he signed.
Harrison lowered his gaze and looked like a man without a prepared speech. He told me he didn’t want it to come to this, and I told him I didn’t want my car given away either.
“It was a mistake,” Harrison said. “No. It was a habit of deciding for me,” I replied.
Harrison sat down slowly and asked what I wanted him to do. I told him I wanted him to listen without interrupting.
I explained with surgical calm how every bit of help Tiffany received came from family money without my consultation. I told him how I used my inheritance to remodel the house while he referred to it as the house he maintained.
I reminded him how he belittled my decision to be a stay at home mom and how he talked about me as if my life were worthless. Harrison didn’t deny the facts and finally admitted he had been an idiot.
I told him the house would remain for sale for now as an open reality rather than a threat. I had already received two requests to visit the property over the weekend.
“First, I want immediate separation of shared accounts except for the children. Second, I want a documented return of all money sent to Tiffany,” I stated.
I also demanded couples therapy and informed him that I was going back to work without asking for permission. Harrison asked if I would take the house off the market if he accepted.
“Then I’ll decide. If not, I’m selling it and taking the kids to an apartment,” I warned him. Harrison put his hands to his face and begged me to protect the home.