Chapter 2
I spent the whole day cleaning the place until it sparkled, then headed downstairs to the corner store to grab a sandwich.
As soon as I bit into the sandwich, the familiar taste filled my mouth.
This was the one thing I'd eaten more than anything else over the past five years.
My phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I picked up.
"Iona, it's me," the voice said.
It was Eugene.
"Where are you? I've been searching for you all day, Iona," Eugene said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
"What do you want?" I asked.
There was a pause on the other end.
"Come home, Iona. Don't sulk and stay outside. Back home..." Eugene said.
"Which home?" I cut him off. "The one with you, or the one with Doris?"
There was a long silence.
"I know you're busy, Mr. Calhoun. If that's all, I'm hanging up," I said.
"Wait!" Eugene called out, panicked. "Do you need anything? Do you have enough money? I've sent you 1.5 million dollars. Use it for now, and if it's not enough, tell me."
I opened my banking app to check.
Sure enough, the 1.5 million dollars had really come through.
I hit refund and sent it right back.
"I don't need it," I said.
"Iona!" Eugene finally let his anger show, his patience snapping.
"How long are you going to keep fighting me? What can you possibly do out there alone? You've been to prison and you've got a record. What company would hire you?" he yelled.
His words were like needles, pricking at my heart.
But I was numb to it now.
"Isn't this all thanks to you?" I laughed softly. "So, what, your conscience finally kicked in?"
"I..." Eugene hesitated.
I said, "Eugene, spare me your ridiculous compensation. I don't need it."
I paused, then added, "Oh, and if you really want to do something for me, transfer Grandma's old house to my name."
That was the place Grandma and I had lived in since I was a kid, the only spot in this world that still felt like home to me.
Eugene stayed quiet on the line for a long while.
I didn't push him.
I knew he'd agree eventually because that old house was the only thing he could use to keep me close.
As I expected, after a long silence, Eugene finally forced out, "Alright.
"Tomorrow morning at nine. Meet me at the real estate office."
I hung up, quick and clean.
Sandwich was soggy now.
I finished them with a blank expression, then opened up the laptop I always carried with me.
The screen lit up, lines of code glimmering with a ghostly green glow in the dark room.
It had been five years.
My fingers finally found their way back to the keyboard.
I was a bit rusty at first, but that ingrained familiarity quickly returned.
*****
The next day, I showed up at the real estate office right on time.
Eugene was already there, his eyes ringed with dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink.
He handed me a document.
"Just sign here," he said.
I took it and signed without glancing at it.
He looked like he wanted to say something. His lips moved, but in the end, nothing came out.
The paperwork was done in no time.
Once I had the new deed in hand, I turned and walked out without a word.
"Iona!" Eugene called out to me. "Let me take you there."
"No, thanks," I replied.
"If you... if you need anything after you move in, make a list and I'll have someone handle it," Eugene said.
"Eugene." I turned and gave him a cold stare. "I told you not to come looking for me again."
I took a cab straight to the old house.
It was a cozy two-story house with a small courtyard, like a little paradise tucked away in the heart of the city, where every square foot cost a fortune.
I pulled out my keys and unlocked the gate.
The grapevine Grandma loved most had been cut down.
Instead, there was a shiny new glasshouse, packed full of bright roses.
Roses were Doris's favorite.
My heart dropped like a stone.
I pushed open the door, and the scene inside made me feel like I'd fallen into a frozen abyss.
The warm, traditional decor was gone, replaced by an opulent style.
The photo of Grandma and me that once hung on the wall had vanished, replaced by a massive wedding portrait of Eugene and Doris.
Their smiles were painfully sweet.
The old, worn-out chair Grandma left behind and the spot where I used to play as a kid were nowhere to be found.
The whole house was filled with Doris's presence.
The cloying, unfamiliar perfume was so overpowering it made me feel sick.
I stood in the middle of the living room, feeling like my blood had turned to ice.
So this was it. Eugene had made this place his marital home with Doris.
And this was his idea of compensation: handing me back an empty shell, completely overrun by someone else, nothing left of what it used to be.
Bravo, Eugene. Well played.