Chapter 14 - The Blue Folder
The water hit Gloria with a wet, heavy smack.
She shrieked—a high-pitched, gargling sound of absolute shock. The soapy bleach water soaked her hair, ruined her blouse, and dripped down her face, pooling onto the white leather sofa she had been so proudly sitting on.
“My eyes!” she screamed, wiping frantically at her face. “She blinded me!”
Eric lunged forward. “Are you insane?!” he roared at me. “What did you just do?!”
I dropped the empty red basin onto the floor. It bounced with a hollow clatter.
“I cleaned up the trash,” I said.
Brittany came running out of the guest room, screaming when she saw her mother dripping wet on the couch. “Call the police! She assaulted Mom!”
“Call them,” I challenged, walking over to the entry table. “Please. Let’s explain to the NYPD how you brought a bucket of bleach into my living room to try and force me into some bizarre, abusive submission ritual.”
Eric grabbed a towel from the kitchen and threw it at his mother. He turned to me, his face purple with rage.
“You are a psycho, Claire! This marriage is over!”
“Finally, we agree on something,” I said.
I unzipped my leather briefcase and pulled out the navy-blue folder. I walked back over and slammed it down on the glass coffee table.
PETITION FOR DIVORCE.
Eric stared at the bold black letters. The anger drained from his face, instantly replaced by panic. “What is this?”
“That is your exit,” I said. “Inside, you’ll find copies of the hidden credit card statements, the nineteen thousand dollars you funneled to your mother, and the wire transfer you tried to steal on Monday. My lawyer has everything.”
Gloria stopped crying. She peered over the towel, her wet hair plastered to her forehead. “What wire transfer?” she asked, looking at Eric.
May you like
I smiled coldly. “Oh, Eric didn’t tell you? He tried to steal twenty-eight grand from me to buy you a house. He’s not a rich executive, Gloria. He’s a parasite. And his host just cut him off.”
|
