Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. I peeked through the peephole and saw a young guy in a white shirt, his forehead slick with sweat. I opened the door.

"Mrs. Evans, I'm Alex Miller," he said, panting. When he spotted the baby in my arms, he froze for a moment.

"Come in," I said, stepping aside to let him through.

Alex walked in, his eyes lighting up as he looked around. "Mrs. Evans, you've kept this place in great shape. The layout's spot-on, and the lighting is fantastic.

"It's 150 thousand dollars under market. Seriously, that's a steal. I bet it'll be snapped up in no time."

He got right to work, slipping on shoe covers and pulling out his notebook and measuring tape.

I led him to the living room and set the deed and my ID on the coffee table. "Take a look. The ownership is clear, no mortgages, no disputes."

Alex picked up the deed and checked it carefully, then glanced at me, a mix of curiosity and sympathy in his eyes. "Mrs. Evans, is something urgent going on?"

"That's my business," I said, not wanting to explain.

He got the hint and nodded. "Got it. Should we sign the exclusive listing agreement now? I'll get a photographer over right away and put it on our platform's top spot today."

"Sure."

He pulled the contract out of his briefcase. With the baby in my arms, I bent over the coffee table, flipping through the pages one by one.

The terms were straightforward, with no hidden traps. At the end, I signed my name: [Amelia‌ Evans]. My handwriting was bold and confident.

After signing, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and my wound started throbbing again. I grabbed the sofa to steady myself.

"Mrs. Evans, are you okay? You don't look so good," Alex said, his voice tight with concern.

"I'm fine. I just had a baby," I replied.

Alex looked more conflicted, like he had something on his mind but couldn't bring himself to say it.

He gathered up the contract and stood up. "Mrs. Evans, don't worry. I'll make sure everything gets done. Just focus on resting. I'll handle all the viewings and keep things as hassle-free as possible for you."

"No need," I called after him. "Starting tomorrow, viewings can happen anytime. But there's one condition: anyone who comes to see the place must bring a deposit."

He got what I meant. This way, we'd only deal with serious buyers and avoid all the unnecessary visits. "Alright, got it," he said.

After seeing Alex out, I closed the door. The silence returned, leaving only my baby and me in the room.

My mom called. "Emmy, I've found a postpartum care center for you. It's right next to the women's and children's hospital, the best one in town. I've already spoken to the director, so that you can go anytime."

"Okay," I replied.

"I'll have your brother come pick you up right now."

"No, Mom." I declined. "I'll go on my own." I didn't want my family to see me like this. This was my fight, not theirs.

"How are you going to manage? You're all alone with the baby, and you're still in your postpartum recovery!" Mom sounded anxious.

"I've already called a moving company." I lied.

After hanging up, I sat down on the couch and started mapping out my plan. My mind was working like a well-oiled machine.

First step: sell the house. Deadline: 20 days. That was my bottom line.

Second step: find a new place. No more buying, just renting. I needed a secure apartment close to my office to make commuting easy.

Third step: sort through everything. I'd take all my stuff and the baby's things. As for David and his parents' junk cluttering up the place, I glanced around at it all and let out a cold smirk.

Fourth step: divorce. Once the money was in and the house was transferred, I'd file for divorce right away. David was the one at fault, and the only marital assets were the car he drove and whatever savings we had left.

The fifth step was the most important: keep my baby safe and make sure I stay safe too.

I opened my phone's notes app and wrote down all five steps, making sure everything was clear. By the time I finished, I felt completely drained.

My baby was fast asleep in my arms, breathing softly. I gazed down at him. He used to be my soft spot, but from today on, he was also my shield.

My phone lit up with a message from David: [Amelia, stop being mad. I'll be back in a few days. Got you a gift.] Then he tacked on a kiss emoji.

Seeing that stupid emoji made my stomach twist. I didn't reply. I blocked him and deleted his contact. Suddenly, everything felt peaceful.