I opened the door myself. The first man was my attorney, Mr. Delaney, and the second was a process server. The deputy was there only to keep the peace, and he looked at the trash bags with open disapproval. Mr. Delaney explained that Adrian had signed a promissory note for $180,000, secured against his share of the company, with repayment due on demand. He was now formally calling it due, effective that morning.

Adrian sputtered that I had tricked him. Mr. Delaney replied calmly that the note was clearly titled, and Adrian had initialed every page. Then he added that the house belonged to me alone, so Adrian’s parents and Selena were guests who had been asked to leave. The deputy cleared his throat, and Georgina dropped the tape. Selena set down my mug, took off the robe, folded it on the counter, and walked out without a word.

The company shares went to me within weeks, since Adrian could not repay. The divorce was granted on my terms, and the court noted his plan to remove me from my own home. I unpacked every box, hung my grandmother’s photograph back in the hallway, and changed every lock. These days I run the company, the kitchen smells like coffee, and nobody tells me where to stand.