There was a tiny dressing room I didn't need, so I turned it into a little shrine for Mom's stuff, like she was still around.
Maybe she'd drop by in my dreams, or around our special days.
Took a day to get my head straight, then hit the job hunt.
After marrying, I'd faded into the background, my resume a ghost town.
Sure, I worked behind the scenes, unpaid, invisible at the company. To the world, I was just Alex's wife, the lady living off his wallet.
Never thought Alex would show up at my new place today.
He looked angry, so surely I wouldn't have any thought that he was here to ask me home.
He barged in, furious, scanning the room like he was looking for something, then snapped, "Where's your mom?"
It caught me off guard and sounded almost like a curse, "What are you talking about?"
He shifted gears, annoyed, "I asked where your mom went. Get her out here, now."
That set me off, "Joking about her now? Really? I told you, the night you played your sick game, she died in that landslide."
Cecelia stepped out from behind him. "Alex, see? These lowlifes, always scheming, have no morals. Even faking their own deaths for a buck."