Chapter 5 - The Escalation
Brenda gasped as if she had been slapped.
"You wouldn't dare!"
I picked up my phone from the counter, tapped the screen three times, and put it on speaker.
"911, what is your emergency?" the dispatcher's voice echoed loudly through the messy kitchen.
Brenda's eyes went wide with terror. Megan let out a shriek, grabbing the handles of her double stroller.
"I have three unwanted intruders in my home who are refusing to leave," I said clearly into the microphone, staring straight at Brenda. "My address is 442 Highland Estate Drive—"
"Hang up! Hang up!" Daniel screamed, lunging forward and slamming his hand down on my phone screen to disconnect the call.
"Get out," I said quietly, looking at Brenda and Megan. "Now."
Brenda grabbed her faux-fur coat from Daniel's arms, her eyes burning with pure hatred. "Come on, Megan! Come on, Arthur! We are leaving! Daniel, you are coming with us! Let this cold-hearted monster rot in her empty house!"
"Mom, no, wait—" Daniel pleaded, looking between his furious mother and my icy expression.
"If you stay here with her after how she just disrespected your mother, you are no son of mine!" Brenda barked, marching out of the kitchen toward the front door.
Megan glared at me with pure venom. "You're a disgusting person, Esme. My babies needed that money!"
"Then get a job, Megan, or ask your brother to work overtime," I replied flatly.
Megan pushed her stroller aggressively through the foyer, slamming the heavy front door so hard the glass side-panels rattled. Arthur gave Daniel a long, sad look, shook his head, and walked out behind them.
The front door slammed shut for the final time, leaving an absolute, deafening silence in the house.
Daniel stood in the middle of the ruined kitchen, breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped, looking like a man who had just watched his entire world crumble in five minutes.
"Are you happy now?" he whispered, his voice trembling with anger. "You just destroyed my family."
"No, Daniel," I said, stepping past him toward the hallway. "You destroyed your family the moment you thought you owned me. You treated my labor like your personal bank account."
"I was trying to help my sister!" he yelled, turning around to face me. "She has twins, Esme! Two newborns! Do you have any idea how hard that is?!"
"Then write her a check from your account," I said, stopping at the base of the stairs. "Oh, wait. You can't. Because after paying your half of the mortgage today, you have eighty-four dollars left to your name."
Daniel's face flushed bright red. "You broke our joint account arrangement! That's illegal!"
"No, it's not," I replied calmly. "The joint account was a voluntary arrangement funded eighty percent by my income. I am under no legal obligation to deposit my salary into an account you use to play sugar daddy to your family."
"We're married!" he shouted, stepping toward me. "What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine!"
"Great," I smiled coldly. "Then enjoy your half of the dirty dishes. Because I'm going to a hotel."
He blinked, stunned. "A... a hotel?"
"Yes," I said, pulling my designer overnight bag out of the coat closet—a bag I had packed late last night. "I booked a suite at the Ritz downtown for the next week. I need peace and quiet before my ten-hour heart transplant surgery tomorrow morning."
"You're leaving me here with... with all of this?!" he gestured frantically at the messy kitchen and the freezing house.
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"The thermostat is locked at fifty-four degrees from my phone app, Daniel," I said, pulling my coat on and opening the front door. "And since you canceled 'the comfort,' I suggest you start learning how to wash dishes."
I walked out the door, stepping into the crisp afternoon air, and slammed it shut behind me.
