Chapter 3

I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window and opened the text Emerson had sent me. It was a long, rambling message. Every line oozed with phony sentiment and worthless apologies.

It read: [Violet, I'm sorry. I know I messed up. I never should have hurt you. Please give me one more chance.]

He started reminiscing about our past, from the day we first met in college to the years we worked hard together after graduation. He remembered every little detail, like he was really the kind of guy who loved without regret.

[Violet, do you remember? That burger joint we used to go to. You said it was the best you'd ever had. And that tiny studio apartment we squeezed into to save money?

[You said home was wherever I was. After all these years together, are you really going to throw it all away over one misunderstanding?]

He tried to chalk it all up to a misunderstanding, like those twelve days they spent together, and all those intimate photos were figments of my imagination.

Then he started explaining his relationship with Olivia. [There's really nothing between Olivia and me. I thought she looked lonely, so I agreed to keep her company.

[I admit, I felt a moment of sympathy for her, but that was pity, not love. The only person I've ever loved is you. She's the one who kept clinging to me, and I couldn't get her to leave me alone.]

He painted himself as the innocent victim, pushing all the blame onto Olivia. It was ridiculous. A grown man who couldn't own up to what he'd done.

At the end of the message, he started playing the emotional card. [Violet, what about our wedding? The invitations are already out, the venue and everything's booked. We can't let all our friends and family laugh at us.

[Think about my mom. She might act tough, but deep down, she really approves of you as a family. Please, come back. Can we start over? I swear, I'll never see Olivia again. I'll delete all her contact info.]

I read every single word. No anger, no heartache, a sense of how ridiculous it all was.

Did he really think I was some pet, at his beck and call, to be picked up and dropped whenever he felt like it? Or some idiot who could be fooled by a handful of sweet words and empty promises?

He never truly understood me. Or maybe he never cared enough to try.

I picked up my phone and forwarded the message straight to Mandy. I added a quick note: [Ms. Williams, can this be used as evidence that he's admitting to an affair with another woman?]

Mandy replied almost instantly: [Miss Moore, this can serve as supporting evidence to demonstrate his integrity and establish him as the party at fault. Our chances in court got a lot better.]

When I saw the words "our chances in court got a lot better", I had to laugh. That was probably the only value that text message had.

I blocked Emerson's number. My world was finally free of his drama.

*****

Early the next morning, I met up with Mandy. We went over all the evidence again. From splitting the assets to compensation for emotional damage, every point was crystal clear.

Mandy looked at me, a hint of admiration in her eyes. "Miss Moore, you're the calmest and most decisive client I've ever had.

"Most women get lost in their emotions when something like this happens, but you knew exactly what you wanted from the very beginning."

I smiled, "Because it's not worth it." Wasting a second of my feelings on people like that, or what happened? Not a chance.

As I walked out of the law firm, my phone rang. It was my mom, her voice tight with anger. "Violet, Helen, and Emerson showed up at our house."

My eyes instantly turned icy. "What did they say?"

"They're playing dirty, saying you're manipulative, that you've been after their house from the start, and set this whole thing up on purpose.

"And if you don't go back and make up with Emerson today, they'll blow everything up and make sure you can't show your face in front of all our relatives and friends.

"Your dad was so furious he almost went off on them, but I held him back."

I could picture it perfectly. Helen was at our front door, hands on her hips, screaming like a crazy woman. Emerson stood off to the side, silent, pretending to be the dutiful, blameless son. Honestly, it was disgusting.

"Mom, don't be upset. Getting angry over people like that isn't worth it. I'll be right there."

"Don't come back. They're trying to force you to show up. Stay away for now, let them act out. I want to see what kind of drama they can cause."

I knew my mom was trying to protect me, but that was not my style. When it was my battlefield, I never flinched.

"Mom, relax. I'm not going back to make peace. I'm going back to finish this myself."

After hanging up, I hopped in a cab and headed straight to my parents' house. It was time to set things straight, face-to-face.

*****

The cab pulled up outside the apartment complex. From a distance, I could already spot that disgusting mother and son. My dad was blocking them at the door, while Helen was pounding on it, yelling all sorts of nasty things.

A crowd of neighbors had gathered, gawking and pointing fingers. They still weren't embarrassed enough.

I took a deep breath, straightened my clothes, and strode over in my high heels. The click of my heels was clear and decisive, like a battle drum, or maybe the funeral bell tolling for their miserable fate.

*****

"Well, Helen and Emerson?" I called out, my voice cutting through Helen's yelling. Everyone turned to look at me, including Helen and Emerson.

Helen froze for a second when she saw me, then seemed to find her courage and got more aggressive. She let go of the door and stormed over. "Violet, you little bitch. You actually dare to show up." Her spit was practically flying at me.

I took a step back, dodging her filthy hand, my eyes cold. "Helen, I suggest you watch your mouth. Otherwise, I won't mind adding slander to the list of charges against you."

My calmness and the neighbors watching from behind made her back off a bit, but her face was still twisted with rage. "Slander you? What did I say that wasn't true? You're an ungrateful brat.

"Emerson treated you so well, bought you a house, gave you money, and this is how you repay him? Messing around with other men and trying to steal our family's money."

She started throwing dirt at me in front of everyone. The neighbors started whispering among themselves.

Emerson came over and stood by his mom, looking all heartbroken. "Violet, how could you talk to my mom like that?

"Can't we settle this privately? Let's not make a scene." He played the peacemaker, acting like I was the one causing trouble.

Nice little performance, completely turned the truth upside down.

I laughed. "Settle it privately?" I glanced around at all the curious faces and raised my voice. "Alright, since everyone's so interested, let's lay it all out right here and now."

I turned to Emerson and asked, "You said you bought me a house. The down payment for that wedding home was 1.2 million dollars. You put in 150 thousand dollars, and the rest, over 1 million dollars, was from my parents and me.

"Do you want me to pull out the transfer records right now and show everyone?" Emerson's face went paler.

Then I turned to Helen. "You said you gave me 150 thousand dollars. That's true. But over the past three years, I paid off the 100 thousand loan Emerson racked up from his failed business.

"Every single thing he ate, wore, or used, I paid for it all. Even the jacket he's wearing today, I swiped my card for it last month. All those bills add up to way more than 150 thousand dollars.

"Helen, do you want me to print out all the receipts and post them on the community bulletin board, so everyone can see how your family shamelessly spent my money?"

Helen's face turned a deep, ugly red. She never expected me to remember every detail, let alone call her out in front of everyone.

The neighbors' looks had shifted from curiosity to outright contempt. They started gossiping.

"So he's mooching off a woman, huh?"

"He spent so much of her money and still acts like he's in the right. Shameless, really."

Helen was trembling with anger, pointing at me, but couldn't get a word out.

Just then, our front door swung open. My parents stormed out, faces dark with fury. My dad marched straight over, shielding me behind him, and glared at Emerson.

He asked, "Emerson, what did we ever do to you? My daughter put up with so much because of you, and we never complained. Is this how you treat her?"

My mom fired back without hesitation. "Helen, don't you dare throw your weight around here. Who was it that begged Violet to be with your son in the first place? Now that you think you're tough, you want to kick Violet to the curb?

"Let me tell you, not a chance. The house, the car, every dollar you spent over the years, you'll pay it all back."

My parents were always the respectable type, never the kind to raise their voices. But today, they were truly furious.

Emerson was so intimidated by my parents' fury that he stammered, unable to get a word out. "It's not like that. There's been a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" I stepped out from behind my dad, fixing him with a cold stare. "So, you and Olivia hugging under the snow-capped mountains was a misunderstanding?

"Sharing a bed in a hotel room was a misunderstanding? Or maybe Olivia being pregnant with your kid is a misunderstanding, too?"

That last line was a bluff, but I was betting there was no way they were innocent. And sure enough, the moment I said it, Emerson's face went ghostly pale. He stumbled back a step, staring at me in shock.

Helen was stunned too. She whipped her head around to her son, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. "Emerson, is what she said true?"

Seeing their faces, I knew I'd hit the bullseye. The neighbors exploded. This was the juiciest scandal of the year.

Looking at the two of them, like their whole world had collapsed, I didn't feel a shred of satisfaction, nothing but disgust.

"Get out," I said coldly. "Take your mom and get lost. From now on, we go our separate ways. See you in court."

Emerson opened his mouth to say something, but Helen yanked him back. She was smart enough to know that if they kept this up, they'd only embarrass themselves more.

She shot me a hateful glare, then dragged Emerson, who looked like he'd had his soul sucked out, away, slinking off as the neighbors whispered.

The whole drama finally wrapped up. My parents supported me as we went inside, and once the door was closed, the outside world faded away. My mom hugged me, her eyes filled with tears. "My poor girl."

I gently patted her back, comforting her. "I'm fine, Mom. It's all behind us now." It really was over.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number. I opened it. There was only one line: [Violet, do you really think you've won just because you got Emerson back?] The sender was Olivia.

Her challenge came quicker than I thought. I stared at the message, a cold smirk appearing on my lips. Get him back? Was she seriously confused?

Trash? I never bother picking up what had already been thrown away. I want the one who tossed the trash to pay for it.