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I Paid for the House, So I Sold It Novel Cover

I Paid for the House, So I Sold It

After investing his own money and months of effort into his dream riverfront home, a husband is barred from his own bedroom by his wife. While he suffers from a painful stomach illness, she demands he sleep on the couch to avoid disturbing her friend Ronald, who claims the master bed's cashmere throw as his own. This final insult shatters his dedication to their marriage. Ready to reclaim his life, he books a mortgage payoff, lists the house at a loss, and prepares to leave the Gilbert family behind forever.
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Chapter 4

Ronald's breathing went ragged.

Moira helped him to his feet.

"I'll see him out first. You settle the balance."

The manager held out the bill.

I didn't sign it.

"The wedding date's on hold."

The manager froze.

"Mr. Fox, the deposit may not be refundable."

"Go by the contract."

While Moira was easing Ronald into the car, Fern called me.

"Mr. Fox, if you're serious about selling that place, I've got a cash buyer."

I watched Moira pull the car door shut for Ronald.

"I'm serious."

Fern asked,

"And the price?"

"Below market. Negotiable."

Back home, I canceled the venue date.

I filed a termination request on the tuxedo contract too.

A message came in from Moira.

"Ronald's stable now. Don't blow today out of proportion."

I sent back two words.

"Too late."

She didn't reply again.

I downloaded a property sale contract template.

The wedding could go on without me.

And the house could do without her.

At nine in the morning, I went to the bank.

The clerk wrote the early-payoff penalty on a slip of paper.

"Mr. Fox, this isn't a small amount. You're sure you want to do this?"

I signed.

"I'm sure."

She reminded me again.

"Once the lien's cleared, the property can be sold."

I slid my ID across.

"I know."

As I walked out of the bank, Moira texted.

"What do you want for lunch?"

I wrote back,

"Come home early tonight. We need to talk about the house."

She replied,

"Okay. This time I'll really listen to you."

I put my phone in my pocket.

That afternoon, Fern brought the buyer to see the house.

Ahead of time, I'd bagged Ronald's pill case, his sleep machine, his diffuser, and his slippers into a clear bag.

The bag sat by the entry.

The buyer's wife noticed the silk bedding in the master bedroom.

"It's in great shape. Can it stay?"

I said,

"The bedding doesn't stay."

The buyer's husband glanced at the balcony.

"Why the rush to sell?"

I handed him a copy of the deed.

"Relocating to another city."

Fern pulled me aside.

"You're cutting too deep on the price. They'll still try to haggle."

"Cash is fast. The price is negotiable."

She looked at me.

"You've made up your mind."

"Yes."

In the early evening, Moira came home.

She saw the storage boxes in the living room.

"Packing up the wedding things?"

I set the settlement spreadsheet on the coffee table.

"Sit."

She saw the spreadsheet, and her face changed.

"Dirk, you're really doing this?"

"Me sleeping on the couch last night was real too."

She sat down.

"You go first."

I opened to the first page.

"Down payment was three million. I put in two, you put in one."

She nodded.

"That I'll own."

"Renovations, seven-eighty-six thousand. I paid that."

"I covered the bulk of the monthly payments."

"HOA fees, appliances, furnishings. I paid for those."

She rubbed at her brow.

"You're tallying all this up now. What's the point?"

"There's a point."

Her phone started buzzing.

Ronald's name flashed on the screen.

She dismissed it.

It rang a second time.

The third time, he sent a voice message.

"Moira, I'm alone in the master bedroom, and the window looks like it's falling away. I don't want to live."

Moira stood up.

I stepped in front of her.

"You walk out tonight, and there's nothing left to talk about."

She grabbed her car keys.

"He's sick, Dirk. Don't push me into being some cold-blooded person."

I looked at her.

"The night my stomach was killing me, you were plenty cold-blooded."

Her face went rigid.

The door shut.

Her footsteps faded.

I opened my banking app.

I entered the transfer amount, the money she was owed back.

A few months of payments, prorated.

The furniture depreciation, settled.

Memo: property and shared expenses settled in full.

Confirm transfer.

Moira called soon after.

I didn't pick up.

I took the deed, the lien-release receipt, my ID, and the spare key.

At the title office window, the buyer and his wife had already arrived.

Fern handed the documents to the clerk.

My phone kept buzzing.

The screen was nothing but Moira's name.

The clerk verified my identity.

"Property owner Dirk Fox. Documents are complete."

I set the title certificate in the tray.

The clerk looked up.

"Mr. Fox, do you confirm you're selling this property voluntarily?"

Behind me came Moira's voice.

"Dirk Fox, you sell this house and see what happens."

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