Chapter 5 - The Unwanted Visitor
I spent the next three days at my parents' house,
hidden away from the world,
watching the legal gears begin to grind in my favor.
Mr. Harrison moved with terrifying speed,
filing motions,
freezing accounts,
and officially serving Jason with divorce papers at his office.
I would have paid money to see his face when the process server walked in,
handing him a stack of documents that detailed his own ruin.
The joint accounts were locked down,
meaning Jason suddenly had no access to the funds he thought he had cleverly secured.
On Thursday evening,
the sky grew dark with a rolling Texas thunderstorm,
the rain lashing against the windows of my childhood bedroom.
I was sitting on the floor,
going through old photo albums,
systematically tearing out any picture that contained Amber's smiling,
deceitful face.
Suddenly,
the doorbell rang,
the sound echoing sharply through the quiet house.
I froze,
a familiar spike of anxiety shooting up my spine.
My father's heavy footsteps crossed the living room downstairs,
followed by the sound of the front door unlocking.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here,"
my father's voice boomed,
loud enough to rattle the floorboards.
"I need to speak to Rachel,"
Jason's voice drifted upstairs,
sounding desperate,
frantic,
and completely stripped of his usual arrogant charm.
"She has nothing to say to you,"
my father replied.
"And if you do not step off my porch right now,
I will call the police."
"Please,
Mr. Bennett,
you do not understand,
this is all a massive misunderstanding,"
Jason pleaded,
the panic in his voice unmistakable.
I stood up,
dropping the torn photographs onto the carpet,
and walked slowly down the stairs.
My mother was standing in the kitchen,
holding the phone in her hand,
ready to dial emergency services at a moment's notice.
I reached the bottom of the staircase,
stepping into the foyer where Jason was standing on the porch,
soaked to the bone by the pouring rain.
He looked pathetic,
his expensive suit ruined,
his hair plastered to his forehead,
his eyes wide with a fear I had never seen before.
"Rachel,"
he gasped when he saw me.
"Thank God,
please tell your lawyer to stop this,
my accounts are frozen,
I cannot even pay the mortgage."
I stood next to my father,
crossing my arms over my chest,
and looked at the man I had promised to spend my life with.
"You do not have to pay the mortgage,
Jason,"
I said calmly,
my voice cutting through the sound of the storm.
"Because it is not your house anymore."
He stared at me,
his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish,
as the reality of his situation finally crashed down upon him.
"You are crazy,"
he spat,
the desperation quickly turning back into the anger he had tried to hide.
"No,"
I smiled,
the coldest smile I had ever worn.
"I am just reading the emails you sent to Richard Vance,
have a good night in the rain,
Jason."
My father slammed the door in his face,
the heavy wood clicking shut with a finality that felt like victory.
May you like
I turned around,
walking back up the stairs,
