“We’ll have to reschedule,” he decided. “Mom’s really not doing well.”
“Reschedule?” I questioned.
“Matt, we’ve waited for this moment for years! Can’t we check on her after the meeting?”
“Demi, she hasn’t eaten all day,” he reiterated, his tone now more assertive. “I’ll take care of her.
Can you bring her some of your lasagna? She loves it.”
“What about the house?” I pressed. “We need to finalize everything tonight.”
“Just don’t worry about it.
We can handle it another day,” he brushed me off.
Something about his demeanor felt off, but I shrugged it off. After all, he was just concerned about his mom, right?
Despite any differences between us, Linda adored my lasagna. That cheesy, oven-baked dish earned plenty of compliments.
I thought preparing it for her during her time of need might ease the tension between us, so I sighed, rolled my sleeves up, and set to work.
As the lasagna cooked, I reflected on the sacrifices Matt and I had made to save for the house.
We had skipped vacations, passed on fancy meals, and worked overtime to make this dream happen.
The house was meant to mark a new beginning for us.
Legally, the house would be in Matt’s name due to some complex inheritance matters, but I didn’t mind. In our state, property acquired during marriage would be equally divided in a divorce.
I trusted Matt, even though it left a slight knot of unease in my stomach.
Around 6 p.m., I hopped into my car with the warm lasagna. Matt mentioned he had a work meeting and couldn’t join me.
About twenty minutes into my drive, my phone chimed.
It was Sarah, my lawyer. She never called after hours unless it was urgent.
“Hi,” I answered. “What’s going on?”
“Go back home.
NOW,” she ordered.
“What? Sarah, what’s happening?”
“It’s Matt,” she replied. “They’re at your house… with a real estate agent.
You need to return immediately.”
“What do you mean ‘they’?” I inquired, already making a U-turn.
“Matt and Linda,” she stated, her tone clipped. “They’re signing paperwork to put the house in Linda’s name.”
“What the hell?”
“Just get back home now!” she urged before ending the call.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, my hands trembled so much I could barely unfasten my seatbelt.
Inside, the scene was worse than I had imagined.
Matt was in the living room holding the documents he had concealed from me. Linda stood beside him, looking perfectly healthy.
The real estate agent fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly regretting her involvement.
“What’s happening here?” I demanded.
Matt stepped forward.
“Babe, listen—”
“No,” Sarah interjected, stepping into the room behind me. It seemed she had followed closely after I mentioned reaching home. “Let me clarify this since you can’t be honest.”
She then turned to me.
“They were about to transfer the house into Linda’s name,” she explained.
“Your house, Demi. The one you worked for.”
I stared at Matt, struggling to comprehend the situation.
“Why?” I whispered. “Why would you do this?”
Linda crossed her arms, a condescending smile creeping onto her face.
“It’s quite simple,” she said.
“Matt has always been my son first, and I need to protect what’s his. You can’t trust just anyone these days, you know.”
I was at a loss for words.
“But that’s not all,” Sarah interrupted. “I did some digging after the agent flagged this deal.
Linda’s been planning for Matt to marry someone else. Her friend’s daughter. They intended to push for a divorce, leave you with nothing, and proceed as if you never existed.”
My chest constricted, and the room began to spin.
“You orchestrated this?
With her?” I turned to Matt. “I trusted you. I gave you everything.
Do you even comprehend the gravity of what you’ve done?”
“It’s not what it seems,” Matt stammered, still averting his gaze. “Mom just believed it was the best—”
“Best?” I interrupted. “Best for whom?
You? Her? What about me, Matt?
I built this life with you. I sacrificed for this house. For us.
And you were ready to erase me without a second thought!”
“Demi, I—”
“Save it,” I shot back, shaking my head. “You don’t deserve my forgiveness, nor do you deserve me.”
Sarah stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Demi.
The house isn’t sold yet, and we have all the evidence necessary to contest this.”
As I turned to leave, I felt an unexpected clarity. This wasn’t the end of my journey. Rather, it marked the conclusion of a negative chapter.
I was ready to begin a brighter one.
The following months were a whirlwind of paperwork, tears, and moments of laughter.
Sarah assisted me in filing for divorce, and the pain of Matt’s betrayal made it straightforward to reclaim what I was owed. His financial contributions were so minimal that he ended up with things like a lamp and a blender.
In the aftermath, I grew closer to Sarah, and we became good friends.
The real estate agent who had come to my aid? She also became one of our close friends.
Six months later, I collaborated with the same agent to purchase a new home.
This time, it was solely mine, and I didn’t have to share it with a greedy man like Matt.
