Chapter 2
The rich aroma of fried eggs roused me awake early the next morning.
I walked into the kitchen to find Julia wearing my hand-dyed indigo cotton apron, the one I'd bought overseas during travel years prior, busily stirring food at the stove.
She was flipping eggs with the spatula and shot me a quick smile. "Morning! Frank said you like fried eggs, so I fried up three for you."
Only two place settings rested on the dining counter.
One sat directly in front of her, the other was reserved perfectly for Frank's usual seat.
No plate, no fork waited for me anywhere in sight.
"I had no idea what time you'd wake up, so I didn't set anything out for you. I truly am sorry about that," she said sheepishly.
She carefully transferred a runny-yolk fried egg onto Frank's plate, cooked exactly how he preferred it.
It had taken me two full years of marriage just to memorize his exact food preferences.
Julia mastered the details within her first day here.
I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a carton of cold milk instead.
"Hey, Susan, I borrowed a tiny bit of your facial cleanser last night. Hope you don't mind too much," she called out before I could leave.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Which one exactly?"
"That plain white bottle from the premium foreign skincare brand," she said vaguely.
PureGlow. Three hundred forty dollars per bottle, a staple I replaced monthly without fail. I never even let Frank touch my exclusive cleanser.
"Frank said I could use anything in this apartment freely," she added casually.
Frank said again.
Frank said I wouldn't mind.
Frank said she could help herself to anything in the apartment.
Frank got to make all the rules now?
Was this even Frank's apartment?
I finished my milk in silence and tossed the empty carton into the trash bin.
As I passed the entryway on my way out for work, fresh violations met my eyes again.
Two brand-new pairs of shoes occupied the top shelf of my dedicated shoe cabinet: white casual sneakers and soft loafers, both size 7.
My entire collection of footwear had been shoved carelessly down to the very bottom shelf, out of plain sight entirely.
I held my tongue and left without a single complaint.
During my morning commute, I typed out a short message to a trusted contact saved in my phone: [Rex, you there?]
Three seconds later, a sharp, direct reply popped up: [Yeah?]
*****
On Julia's third day staying in my home, Frank's mother, Miranda Shaw, showed up unannounced at the front door.
She always called ahead before visiting normally, yet no warning came this time around.
I answered the door to find her carrying two large grocery bags. Even while switching out her shoes, her eyes scanned every corner of the living room in quick judgment.
"Where's Julia?" she asked.
Not a polite greeting for me. Her first words belonged solely to the uninvited guest.
"Resting in the master bedroom," I replied evenly.
"The master bedroom?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
Miranda showed zero surprise or hesitation at all.
She walked straight toward the bedroom door and knocked softly, her tone gentle and warm beyond compare. "Julia, dear, I've come to check on you."
I stood in the living room and heard the door open.
"Mrs. Miranda Allen! What brings you here?" Julia sounded genuinely excited.
"I was worried about you, Julia. I just couldn't relax knowing you were out here all by yourself," Miranda replied.
I headed to the kitchen to pour water for everyone present.
I knew Miranda only drank from clear glass tumblers and refused ceramic mugs entirely, a habit I'd memorized over the years.
When I returned with two filled glasses, Miranda and Julia sat cozily together on the sofa.
Julia leaned into her side intimately, while Miranda patted the back of her hand in comforting reassurance.
"Back then... it just wasn't meant to be for you and Frank," Miranda murmured softly, her voice tinged with regret.
"Let's not talk about that. That's all in the past now," Julia murmured, lowering her head.
Miranda accepted the glass from my hands without a single glance in my direction.
"Susan, get the guest room ready. I'm staying over tonight," she said.
I already slept confined to the cramped guest bedroom, while Julia claimed my master bed freely.
Did Miranda also plan to squeeze into that tiny single space?
"The guest room only has a tiny bed," I said.
"Just make yourself a bed on the floor. Don't make such a fuss. This is your own home," she replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Julia wore a practiced look of helpless concern. "Maybe I should sleep on the couch instead. No need to put Susan in a tough spot."
"Your back pain won't allow that kind of strain." Miranda shot me a sharp, disapproving glare instantly.
"Susan, you're young and healthy. What harm comes from sleeping on a floor mat? Can't you show a little basic consideration for Julia's poor health?"
I studied the scene before me quietly.
Premium cherries and fresh mangoes filled the grocery bags Miranda had brought along.
Two neat platters of washed cherries rested on the coffee table—one for Julia, one for Miranda herself.
Nothing waited for me at all.
"I'll take the floor. But I've got a question for you, Mom," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"Do you know who purchased this apartment?" I asked.
A heavy silence fell across the living room air at once.
Miranda's expression flickered with momentary unease before hardening back into calm composure.
She said, "We're all one big family under this roof. Why draw silly lines between yours and mine?"
She popped a plump cherry into her mouth dismissively. "Frank is your husband now. What belongs to him belongs to you, and what belongs to you belongs right back to him."
I offered a quiet, hollow smile and chose not to argue further.
Then, I retreated into the guest room and locked myself inside once more, opening my phone to check messages from Rex: [What's going on?]
I typed a long sentence, then deleted it all, simplifying my request down to the bare truth: [I want to sell my house fast. How quickly can all legal paperwork close fully?]
His reply came within seconds: [How big is it? Which neighborhood?]
I replied: [Greenlake Garden Residences, 950 square feet, fully renovated.]
A swift follow-up pinged right after: [Funny coincidence. I've been looking for a property exactly like this recently. Cash offer ready immediately.]