Chapter 4
The city lights blurred past the car window, neon streaks painting the glass. I leaned back in the leather seat, not bothering to look outside. My hand rested gently on my slightly rounded belly, feeling the faint flutter of life inside.
He was quiet, as if he knew his mom had been through a battle. My heart was surprisingly calm, too. No anger, no sadness. a drained kind of peace, like the calm that settles in after a fever finally breaks.
Henry glanced at me in the rearview mirror, like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He turned up the heat a little.
My parents sat on either side of me. My mom held my hand, her palm icy and trembling nonstop. Dad didn't say a word; his face was ashen, and the oppressive aura around him was almost scary.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a bank notification. 90 thousand dollars had been transferred from our joint account to my personal gold card. This was my final move.
I switched off my phone and tossed it aside. From now on, Benjamin and I had nothing left to do with each other.
The car rolled smoothly into a familiar underground garage. This was the place I'd called home since I was a kid, a secure gated estate where the elevator takes you straight into your house.
*****
As the door swung open, warm, bright light spilled out. The housekeeper Mary was already waiting at the entrance, taking my mom's coat. "Welcome home, Ms. Lynn," she said, looking at me with genuine concern.
The living room was as I'd left it, plush wool carpet, a grand crystal chandelier, and photos of me from childhood lining the walls. Warm, safe, and immaculate. It was a world apart from the home I'd run away from.
My mom finally couldn't hold back anymore; her eyes rimmed with red. "My poor girl, how could you go through all that and only tell us now?" she choked out, hugging me tightly.
Dad strode over to the bar, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and knocked it back in one go. He slammed the glass down on the marble counter with a dull thud. "That bastard," he growled.
I gently patted Mary's back. "Mom, I'm fine. I'm back now. I realized that some people, some things, aren't worth it."
My calm seemed to hurt them more than if I'd broken down. Dad came over and ruffled my hair, his hand big and warm. "It's good you're back. From now on, no matter what happens, I've got your back.
"You don't have to worry about a thing, focus on your pregnancy and getting ready for the baby. I'll handle everything else." His voice was quiet, but it carried real weight.
I knew Benjamin's hard times were about to begin.
Meanwhile, in the house that had been stripped bare, Benjamin was still begging where he'd fallen, as he'd been left. He was surrounded by a silence so deep it felt suffocating. In the empty room, the only sound was his ragged breathing.
The pale outline where their wedding photo used to hang was still there, a cold, empty rectangle, a cruel reminder of everything they'd lost.
He slowly got to his feet, stumbling through the rooms. The bedroom was empty, the kitchen was empty, and the nursery, once filled with hope, was now nothing but chaos and ruin.
It finally hit him. This wasn't some joke, and it wasn't my being upset. This was total ruin.
He lunged for the door desperately, only to remember that he'd already been kicked out. His hands trembling, he fumbled for his phone. Found my number. Pressed dial. It rang once. Then straight to voicemail.
His mind went completely blank. He found Dad's number and tried again. It rang once. Then straight to voicemail, too.
Fear crashed over him like a tidal wave. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. He fumbled with his phone, frantically opening the banking app.
He needed to check the joint account, their entire fortune. He'd always thought that money was his last lifeline.
The page loaded. He scrolled down to the balance. It glowed back at him like a slap in the face. Below it, a smaller line: [Today at 6:32 PM, 90,000.00 transferred out.]
Benjamin's vision went black. His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor. It was over. Everything was gone. The house, Margaret, and the baby were all gone. And now, the money was gone.
He sat on the cold floor for what felt like forever. Then his phone rang again. The name Laura flashed on the screen. He recoiled, almost tossing the phone away. But he didn't. Because right now, he had nowhere else to go.
With trembling hands, he answered the call.
"Hey, Benjamin, what the hell is going on?" Laura's shrill voice screeched through the phone. "What was Margaret thinking now? She said she'd rather give everything to the beggars. What's that supposed to mean?"
Benjamin listened to her entitled rant, and a surge of rage flared up inside him. "What do you think it means?" He spat, his voice raw and scratchy, like sandpaper, as he pushed himself off the floor.
"It means she kicked me out. She cleared out the whole house. She took every last cent from our account. She wants a divorce. I'm fucking homeless now."
He screamed into the phone at the top of his lungs. "Is this what you wanted, Laura?"
There was a long, awkward silence on the other end. After what felt like half a minute, Laura finally spoke up, sounding completely incredulous. "Wait, seriously? She's totally blowing things out of proportion. Pregnant and she still wants a divorce? Has she lost her mind?"
Benjamin felt his heart drop to the floor. He'd expected at least a little worry or an apology from Laura, but all he got was her brushing it off and talking down about his wife.
Benjamin let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, right. To you, nothing is ever a big deal. It's not your life that's been emptied out, not you left on the street. Laura, thanks a lot. Thanks for completely ruining my life."
"Stop with the attitude. You can't control Margaret, and you blame me? I'm your sister, aren't I? You're the uncle. It's your duty to help out when I'm having a baby.
"She's the one who's out of line. She was so bossy. Wait, I'm telling Mom, and she'll set things straight." With that, Laura hung up.
Benjamin listened to the busy tone, standing alone in the empty living room. He felt like the punchline of a cruel joke.
He had no choice. With legs weighed down like lead, he dragged himself out of the neighborhood, flagged down a cab, and gave the driver the one address least wanted to visit, Laura's home.