He Moved His Lover In I Moved My Money Out Chapter 03
The study went quiet.
Graham stared at me, as if waiting for me to take it back.
When I didn’t, his face darkened.
“Nora, there’s a limit to this.”
“I’ve already apologized, and I’ve promised to compensate you. Now you’re threatening me with divorce? What, to force me to throw Claire and her son out on the street tonight?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a notice.”
I walked past him, went upstairs, and entered the dressing room.
Tomorrow’s suit was still hanging in the closet. I took it down, slid it into a garment bag, then pulled out a suitcase and started packing my everyday clothes.
Graham followed me in, a clear note of impatience in his voice.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing. I’m leaving tonight.”
“As for the artwork and our joint investment portfolio, I’ve already made a list. Our lawyers can inventory and divide them later.”
His expression shifted.
Just as I closed the suitcase, he slammed his hand down on the lid.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
The veins stood out on the back of his hand, his voice rising with them.
“Over one house, you’re going to destroy ten years of marriage?”
“I helped a homeless woman, and you won’t even discuss it—you go straight to a lawyer. Nora, how did I never realize you were this cold?”
I looked up at him.
“I designed that house.”
“Every wall, every window—it was the future we talked about. You used money from our joint account to give that future to another woman, and then you let her change the locks and throw a housewarming party online.”
“This isn’t about helping someone. It’s public humiliation.”
His hand on the suitcase stiffened.
A moment later, his voice softened.
“Claire just got divorced. She really is homeless. Owen needs stability, too. Do you really have to fight her over this right now?”
“Then go give her a home.”
I shoved his hand away and locked the suitcase.
“With your own money, your own house, and your own future.”
His face turned to ice.
“Fine.”
Graham took a step back and let out a mocking laugh.
“If you want to leave, then leave.”
“When you calm down, you’ll realize how absurd you’re being. You’re just trying to force me to send Claire away, and I’m not going to indulge this childish behavior.”
He turned and went downstairs, sat on the sofa in the living room, and switched on the television.
The news anchor’s voice quickly filled the house.
He didn’t look at me again, as if all he had to do was refuse to engage and I would do what I had always done in our arguments—find us both a graceful way out.
I took out my phone and called a twenty-four-hour moving company.
An hour later, the movers arrived.
The numbered boxes from the study were carried out one by one. My clothes, my professional licenses, my project drafts, and my personal collections were loaded onto the truck after them.
I didn’t touch the paintings on the walls or the ornaments in the cabinets.
Those were marital assets. The lawyers would handle them.
Graham stayed on the sofa the whole time. The television light flickered across his face, but he never once turned around.
When the last suitcase was rolled through the foyer, I took off my key and placed it on the console table.
The door closed behind me with a soft click.
I knew then that I would never return to the home I had lived in for ten years.