Chapter 4 - The Locksmith and the Law
The drive to the suburbs was fast.
Zachary drove with a calculated precision,
navigating the streets as if he were on a mission.
I sat in the passenger seat,
my hands folded in my lap.
I had removed my veil.
I had wiped the makeup from my face.
I looked like a woman ready for a fight.
"The house is in your name?"
Zachary asked.
"The lease is,"
I said.
"And the utility bills."
"Andrew didn't have the credit score to get approved."
"So technically,"
"he's a guest."
"And Gemma?"
"She's a trespasser,"
I replied.
The realization of my own power began to dawn on me.
I had been so caught up in the emotional betrayal that I had forgotten the legal reality.
We pulled into the driveway of the beautiful two-story home.
Andrew’s car was there.
Gemma’s car was there.
And Brenda’s gaudy SUV was parked right in the middle of the lawn.
They were celebrating.
I could see the lights on inside.
I could see them moving through the kitchen.
My kitchen.
On the curb,
two large,
unmarked black vans were already waiting.
Four men in suits stepped out.
They weren't just security.
They looked like professionals.
"Mr. Howard,"
one of them said,
nodding to Zachary.
"The locksmith is two minutes out."
"The police have been notified of a potential break-in and illegal occupation."
Zachary looked at me.
"Are you ready?"
"I've been ready since I walked out of that venue,"
I said.
We walked up to the front door.
I didn't knock.
I didn't ring the bell.
I waited for the locksmith,
who arrived with a kit and a silent efficiency.
It took him less than sixty seconds.
The click of the lock was the most satisfying sound I had ever heard.
I pushed the door open.
The smell of my favorite scented candles filled the air.
They were burning my candles.
In the living room,
Andrew,
Gemma,
and Brenda were sitting on my sofa.
They were drinking my expensive champagne.
The bottle I had saved for our first anniversary.
Gemma was still in her wedding dress,
though she had kicked off her shoes.
Andrew had his arm around her.
They looked up,
startled.
"Samantha?"
Andrew stood up,
his face turning a mottled red.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I told you your stuff was in the garage!"
"You can't just burst in!"
Brenda sneered,
setting her glass down.
"You've always been dramatic, Samantha."
"This is Andrew's home now."
"He’s a married man."
"He needs his space."
I didn't say a word.
I stepped aside,
allowing Zachary and his team to enter.
The presence of four large men and a very imposing Zachary Howard changed the atmosphere instantly.
Gemma pulled the silk of her dress closer to her body,
looking small and frightened.
"Who are these people?"
she whimpered.
"This,"
I said,
finding my voice,
"is the owner of this house."
"And I am the tenant."
"You,"
I pointed at Andrew,
"are an unwanted guest."
"And you,"
I pointed at Gemma,
"are a thief."
"And as for you, Brenda,"
"you're just a nuisance."
Andrew laughed,
though it sounded nervous.
"You're crazy."
"We're married!"
"The law protects us!"
"Actually,"
Zachary stepped forward,
his voice like ice.
"The law protects the person whose name is on the contract."
"Which is Dr. Miller."
"The police are on their way to escort you off the property."
"You have five minutes to gather what is yours."
"Which,"
I added,
"isn't much."
"Since I paid for the furniture,"
"the TV,"
"and even that suit you're wearing, Andrew."
The silence that followed was deafening.
The triumph on their faces was replaced by a slow,
creeping dread.
May you like
They hadn't expected me to come back.
They certainly hadn't expected me to come back with an army.
