And just like that, her backup plan collapsed.
Eventually, they left. She slammed the door so hard that the frame shook.
I stood in the hallway for a long time, just breathing in the silence.
The house was finally mine — not because I fought harder, but because someone had loved me enough to prepare for the battle I never saw coming.
One Last Attempt
Two weeks later, I was back in the house. The nursery was slowly coming together — two cribs, some soft pastel wallpaper, and little stuffed animals sitting on the windowsill.
I was folding baby blankets when I heard it: pounding and screaming at the front door.
Veronica and Mike were outside, furious, pounding on the wood like maniacs.
I didn’t even open the door. I called the police immediately.
They arrived in minutes. Veronica and Mike were arrested on the spot for trespassing, intimidation, and harassment.
She fought the whole way, still yelling about what she was owed.
But she wasn’t owed anything.
Safe, Finally
That night, I sat in the living room, barefoot, wrapped in a cozy blanket with the deed in my lap.
The house was quiet, safe, and mine.
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”
He had.
