Chapter 1 - Thirty Minutes
The last piece of my clothing came through the upstairs window at 4:30 in the afternoon.
My navy-blue suitcase had already struck the lawn and burst open. Dresses, shoes, and photographs lay scattered across the grass like pieces of a life someone had decided no longer belonged inside.
Then my white cashmere sweater floated from the window.
It landed beside the driveway.
I walked through the house without removing my heels.
Upstairs, Mark was smoothing the sheets on the bed I had chosen for our master bedroom.
His mother, Linda, stood inside my cedar closet, hanging her polyester blouses between my dresses.
“What are you doing?”
Mark looked at me with the mild impatience he usually reserved for hotel staff.
“Mom needs the best room. She has trouble sleeping.”
“This is our bedroom.”
Linda laughed.
“My son needs someone nearby when his nightmares get bad. You stay up too late anyway.”
I looked at Mark.
He nodded.
“This will be my room with Mom. You can sleep in the living room.”
For several seconds, I could hear only the ocean striking the rocks below the cliff.
Then I stepped onto the glass balcony.
Mark and Linda followed my belongings down to the driveway, still arguing about where everything should go.
I looked over the railing.
“Get out of my house. You have thirty minutes.”
Mark laughed and took two steps toward the balcony.
“We’re married. This is my house too.”
The wind moved my white jacket around me.
“You were never on the title, Mark.”
Linda grabbed his arm.
“Mark… what did she just say?”
I raised my phone and made one call.
Then I looked at my watch.
May you like
“Twenty-nine minutes.”
Neither of them laughed again.
