Chapter 5 - The Eviction of Dreams
The five minutes passed in a blur of chaos.
Brenda started screaming,
hurling insults that would have made a sailor blush.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch, Samantha!"
"No wonder Andrew didn't want you!"
"You care more about your scalpels than your husband!"
I stood my ground,
watching her.
Her words didn't hurt anymore.
They were just noise.
Andrew was trying to argue with one of the security guards,
but the man didn't even blink.
"Sir,"
the guard said,
"if you touch me,"
"it will be considered assault."
"Please move to the garage."
Gemma was crying now,
real tears that smudged her mascara.
"Sam, please,"
she sobbed.
"We didn't mean for it to happen like this."
"We just fell in love."
"You fell in love with my life, Gemma,"
I said,
stepping toward her.
"You fell in love with my house,"
"my fiancé,"
"and my future."
"But you forgot one thing."
"You can't perform surgery."
"You can't earn the life I have."
"You can only try to steal it."
"And you're not very good at it."
The police arrived then,
their sirens flashing blue and red against the windows.
The neighbors were coming out onto their porches.
The perfect suburban scene was being torn apart.
The officers entered the house,
and Zachary spoke to them with the ease of a man who knew the Chief of Police.
Within minutes,
the officers were guiding Andrew and Gemma toward the door.
"Wait!"
Brenda yelled.
"Her things! She has to take her things from the garage!"
"No,"
I said.
"I’ll be taking my things back inside."
"You,"
I looked at Andrew,
"can take your clothes."
"In garbage bags."
"Which are already in the garage."
I had planned this on the drive over.
I knew exactly where I had stored the extra bags.
Seeing Andrew Foster,
the man I was supposed to grow old with,
carrying his belongings in black plastic bags past his neighbors,
was a sight I would never forget.
He looked small.
He looked pathetic.
Gemma followed him,
her white dress dragging through the dirt on the driveway.
She looked like a fallen angel who had never really belonged in the sky.
Brenda was the last to leave.
She stopped at the door and looked at me.
"You'll regret this,"
she hissed.
"Andrew was the best thing that ever happened to you."
"No, Brenda,"
I said,
leaning against the doorframe.
"Saving that little girl today was the best thing that ever happened to me."
"It showed me exactly who I was."
"And exactly who you weren't."
I slammed the door in her face.
I heard the lock click.
I turned around and looked at the empty living room.
It was quiet.
It was mine.
Zachary was standing by the window,
watching them drive away.
He turned to me,
his expression softening.
"Are you okay?"
I took a deep breath,
the air feeling clean and new.
"I'm better than okay,"
I said.
"But I think I'm going to need a new sofa."
"I don't want to sit where they sat."
Zachary smiled.
"I know a great designer."
"But first,"
"you need to eat."
"And you need to sleep."
"Tomorrow,"
"the real work begins."
"What work?"
I asked.
"Getting your money back,"
he said.
"And making sure Andrew Foster never works in this city again."
I looked at the man who had appeared in my life at my lowest moment.
"Why are you doing this, Zachary?"
He walked over to me,
stopping just a few inches away.
"Because you saved my daughter,"
he said.
"And because I like the way you fight."
I realized then that this wasn't the end of my story.
May you like
It was just the prologue.
The drama was far from over.
