He Gave Our Home to Her, So I Left with My Money

He got Leona a sprawling penthouse, bought his sister Phoebe a car, and lined up a job for Willow Simmons.

Only me. I was still waiting.

Waiting for him to have time, waiting for it to be convenient, waiting for his family to be satisfied.

The car stopped at the foot of our rental building.

This apartment, we'd lived in for four years.

Eight hundred square feet, two bedrooms and a living room.

I'd picked out the chandelier in the living room, hung the curtains myself, bought every single bowl in the kitchen one piece at a time.

Duane unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to kiss me.

I turned my head away.

His lips met nothing.

"Cornelia."

His voice dropped low.

"That's enough out of you."

I pushed the door open and got out.

"I've got something to do early tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

Duane came after me and caught my arm.

"Something like what?"

"Some paperwork."

"What paperwork?"

I looked him in the eyes and said it calmly. "It has nothing to do with you."

His face soured at once.

"Do you really have to talk to me like this now?"

I didn't answer.

Because my phone buzzed again.

The notary had sent over a list of supplementary documents.

【Please bring transfer records, the property purchase agreement, screenshots of the promises made in your chats, and any evidence related to the other party revoking the joint-funding addendum.】

I replied with a single Got it.

Duane stared at my screen, his brow knitting tighter.

"Who is that?"

I clicked the phone dark.

"Spam."

He didn't know.

A month ago, I'd found that revoked addendum.

The deal was that I'd put up the $300,000 down payment, and my name would be added to the deed later.

But in the developer's registration, the only buyer listed was Duane.

When I asked him, he said the sales agent had made a mistake.

I believed half of it.

The other half was enough to make me get all my evidence in order.

Tonight's housewarming was the last chance I was giving him.

And he handed the keys to someone else with his own hands.

At seven the next morning, a phone call jolted Duane awake.

He took the phone out to the balcony.

Even through the glass door, I could still hear Willow's tearful voice.

"Duane, I barely slept last night."

"That set of keys your mom gave me, every time I think about it being your and Cornelia's marital home, I feel like an outsider."

Duane's tone softened instantly.

"Don't read too much into it. Nobody thinks of you as an outsider."

She must have said something else on the other end.

Duane glanced back at me.

I was sitting at the dining table, sliding the transfer receipts one stack at a time into a document folder.

He lowered his voice. "She won't mind. That's just how she is. She'll come around in a couple of days."

My hands paused for a beat.

Then I went on sealing the folder.

Fifteen minutes later, Duane had changed his clothes.

"Willow wants to go take measurements at the new place today, and look at the furnishings while she's there."

"I'll go with her for a bit."

I looked up.

"Weren't we supposed to go to the county clerk's office today to book our registration?"

Duane's hand stilled on his cufflink.

It was as if he'd only just remembered.

After a few seconds, he said it as if it were nothing.

"It's only an appointment, it's not like we're getting the license today. Willow just got back from overseas. There's a lot she doesn't understand, and she can't handle it on her own without me."

I looked at him.

"Duane, I was the one who contacted the contractor. The floor plan, I stayed up nights revising it."

"The budget for the whole place, I figured out line by line."

"And now you're taking her to measure it?"

Duane finally lost his patience.

"Cornelia, are you ever going to stop?"