Laura Bennett. Sole owner.
Not Laura and Ethan.
Not Ethan and Laura.
Not the Walker family.
Me.
My father had helped me buy the house twelve years earlier when I was still a captain and had told me something I had never forgotten.
“Never confuse love with surrendering your footing.”
At twenty-eight, I thought he was talking about money.
At forty, I understood he had been talking about everything.
I pulled out my phone.
It was 8:47 P.M.
I had three missed messages from Ethan.
Can we talk?
Mom feels like you were disrespectful.
Then:
Please don’t make tonight harder than it needs to be.
I stared at the screen.
Not one message said:
I missed you.
Not one said:
I’m sorry.
Not one said:
Welcome home.
I opened my contacts.
Scrolled.
Then pressed call.
The person who answered picked up on the second ring.
“Colonel?”
Hearing my rank spoken so casually after what I had just walked into almost made me laugh.
“Sorry to call this late, Marcus.”
“You just landed, didn’t you?”
“About four hours ago.”
“And?”
I glanced toward the ceiling.
Someone upstairs dropped something heavy.
Diane shouted Megan’s name.
I lowered my voice.
“I need a favor.”
There was a short pause.
Marcus Reed had served with me years earlier before leaving the Army and becoming an attorney.
He knew enough about my marriage to understand that I didn’t call him for favors unless something had gone seriously wrong.
“What happened?”
I looked at the laminated sheet.
“My mother-in-law gave me house rules.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’m sorry?”
“She also assigned herself my bedroom.”
Another pause.
“And Ethan?”
“Let her.”
Marcus exhaled slowly.
“That bad.”
“Worse.”
I told him everything.
The robe.
The mug.
The bedroom.
The office.
The nine hundred dollars.
When I finished, Marcus didn’t make jokes.
He didn’t tell me to calm down.
He simply asked the question I needed someone to ask.
“What do you want?”
I looked around the room.
That was the question.
Not what Ethan wanted.
Not what Diane expected.
Not what would keep the peace.
What did I want?
“I want my house back.”
“Okay.”
“And I want it done correctly.”
“Even better.”
I could hear his keyboard.
“Are Diane and Megan legal tenants?”
“No lease.”
“Any written agreement?”
“No.”
“Have they paid rent?”
“Not to me.”
“Have you authorized Ethan in writing to lease the property?”
“No.”
“Is Ethan on the deed?”
“No.”
More typing.
“How long have they been staying there?”
“Three weeks, according to Ethan.”
“That helps.”
“What can I do?”
“We do this cleanly. No threats. No screaming. No touching their belongings. I’ll send you the appropriate notices tonight and have someone at the house first thing.”
“How early?”
Marcus laughed quietly.
“I remember you, Colonel. How early do you want?”
I looked at the digital clock beside the bed.
4:59.
5:00.
The hour seemed perfect.
“Five.”
“You’re serious.”
“Very.”
“All right.”
He paused.
“Laura?”
“Yes?”
“You sure you want to do this the morning after you come home?”
I looked down at the words alternative living arrangements.
“I didn’t choose the timing.”
Marcus was quiet for a moment.
Then he said:
“Five it is.”
I slept for less than three hours.
At 12:16 A.M., Ethan knocked.
“Laura?”
I didn’t answer.
Another knock.
