He Gave Her My Home So I Took Back My Life Chapter 19
After the hearing, I returned to Hale Manor.
The front gate had already been fitted with new locks.
Lawyers, the trust manager, and the registrar handling my family’s collection stood in the entrance hall, checking each item against an inventory. The oil paintings on the walls, the silver by the fireplace, the antique clock in the ballroom—all of it belonged to the Hale family’s premarital trust.
For the last ten years, Graham had introduced these pieces to guests as “our family’s collection.”
Apparently, I had never really been included in that *our*.
Footsteps sounded on the grand staircase.
Graham came down with a single suitcase, followed by two attorneys there to supervise his departure.
His gaze swept over the cavernous, empty hall.
The white roses were gone. The hostess chair where Vivian had sat was now draped in a dust cover. Only a fragment of shattered glass still glinted in a seam between the floorboards.
“Do you really have to take it this far?” he asked.
“The trust has terminated your right to live here and use the property. Today is the deadline the attorneys set.”
“I’m not talking about the paperwork.”
He set the suitcase down, his voice rough.
“Nora, we lived here for ten years.”
“*I* lived here for ten years.”
I looked at him.
“You only came back when you needed a venue, a collection, or a respectable wife to stand beside you.”
Graham went pale.
His eyes landed on the low cabinet by the stairs. Our wedding photograph had once stood there. Now, only a lighter square on the wood marked where the frame had been.
“Where’s the picture?”
“With the lawyers. Along with the wedding ring.”
“You don’t even want to keep one photo?”
I didn’t answer.
At that moment, the trust manager came over and asked him to confirm the list of his personal belongings.
It was ten pages long. The items that truly belonged to Graham filled only two suitcases.
He read through the list, his expression stiffening with each line.
The furniture, the rugs, the porcelain, even the barware he loved showing off at parties—all of it came from the Hale collection.
He had thought he was the master of a grand estate.
In truth, all he had ever owned was my tolerance.
After he signed, Graham lingered at the door.
“I’ve cut Vivian out of my life.”
I looked at him, my expression neutral.
“That’s between the two of you.”
“I know it’s too late. But I can make it up to you. I’ll have the necklace repaired. I can make a public statement about the hotel stays, too.”
“A restorer has already been found for the necklace. And the ten hotel records are already public.”
I pulled the door open for him.
“The last thing you can do for me is leave.”
He looked at me, as if still hoping to find a trace of reluctance on my face.
There was none.
Graham dragged his suitcase down the stone steps.
The iron gate closed slowly behind him.
This time, the one being turned out of Hale Manor was not me.