“You needed to see me?” I repeated. “That’s interesting. Because when I needed you… you were busy being your mother’s obedient little puppet.”
His face crumpled, like my words hit a bruise that had never healed.
“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”
He looked down at the sidewalk, as if it might offer him a script.
Then he said it.
“It’s all fallen apart.”
I stared at him, silent, waiting.
He took my silence as permission.
“My job…” He rubbed his face like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “After the divorce, people found out. About the woman. About everything. They didn’t even look at me the same way. Eric stopped returning my calls. Richard… he iced me out completely.”
Good.
I didn’t say it, but I thought it.
Larry’s voice grew weaker.
“I quit.”
A slow breath.
“And then… the house.”
Ah.
There it was.
The house.
The prize Olivia wanted so badly she’d been willing to rip my life apart for it.
Larry’s eyes glistened like he hated himself for admitting it.
“The foundation’s sinking. The inspector says the land is unstable. Some kind of old tunnels… old mining damage. We can’t sell it. No one wants it. The bank won’t renegotiate.”
I said nothing, but inside me, something cold and satisfied shifted into place.