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Chapter 3 - Get Out

Author: Grace Kara
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-04 04:25:15

With shaking hands, I pulled out a suitcase and began packing what little I could claim as mine. Clothes, a few books, my mother's old silver hand mirror— the only thing of hers I had left.

I reached for the wedding photo on the nightstand but stopped. That marriage had been a lie. The smiling couple in the silver frame were strangers to me now.

Instead, I carefully packed my art supplies.

My sketchbooks, charcoals, and paints were the only things that had ever truly belonged to me. My mother had been a painter too, though her talent had been stifled by poverty and my father's disapproval.

As I packed, I heard laughter from downstairs.

George, Lisa, Victor, and Olivia, probably celebrating my downfall. The family I had tried so hard to please, to love, united in their contempt for me.

I zipped up my suitcase, took one last look at the bedroom I had shared with a man who had never loved me, and headed downstairs. They were in the living room, drinking champagne. They fell silent as I entered, four pairs of eyes watching me with varying degrees of amusement and disdain.

"The papers." George said, holding out the envelope.

I took it with numb fingers. "I... I'll have someone look these over."

He laughed. "Good luck with that. Claire's made sure you won't find help easily. Just sign them, Angel. Save yourself the humiliation of fighting this."

I looked at them, my husband, my step family— and felt something inside me break. "Is this really what you want? ..to hurt me like this??"

"Oh, Angel," Lisa sighed dramatically. "Always thinking you're the victim. George never wanted you. He was just using you to help his image, and you were too stupid to see it."

"And you let us move in," Olivia added, "even when George told you not to. Such a dutiful stepdaughter. So eager to please."

"Though not eager enough in the bedroom," Victor snickered, making George and Lisa laugh.

I clutched my suitcase tighter. "I'm leaving now."

"The papers," George repeated, his voice hard.

"I'll send them when I've had them reviewed..."

His face darkened. "No, you'll sign them now." He grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the dining table where a pen lay waiting. "Sign, or I'll make sure you never work in this city again."

"You already got me fired!"

"And I can do worse. Sign."

With tears blurring my vision, I scrawled my name on the indicated lines, not even reading what I was agreeing to. What choice did I have? As George had pointed out, I had nothing and no one.

When I finished, he smiled, a cold, triumphant smile that made me wonder how I had ever thought he was handsome. "Good girl. Now get out."

I walked towards the door, my legs somehow supporting me though I felt hollow inside. As I reached for the handle, something wet hit the back of my head. I turned to see Lisa with an empty champagne glass, giggling.

"Oops!" she said with mock innocence. "It slipped."

The champagne dripped down my hair, onto my already damp clothes. George and Victor laughed while Olivia simply smiled, satisfied.

I walked out into the rain without another word, champagne and tears mingling on my face. My suitcase felt impossibly heavy as I dragged it down the driveway, with no destination in mind, no plan, no future.

The rain intensified, soaking through my clothes within seconds.

I had no umbrella, no car, no phone, George had taken it, claiming it was company property. All I had was a suitcase full of clothes and art supplies, and the crushing weight of betrayal pressing down on me.

As I reached the end of the driveway, I heard the front door open. I turned, hope fluttering briefly in my chest.

Had George changed his mind? Come to his senses?

But it was Victor, standing on the porch with a smirk. "Remember my offer!" he called out laughing with a gross wink , before closing the door, shutting me out completely.

I turned away, walking blindly into the downpour, each step taking me further from the life I had believed in, towards an uncertain future I couldn't begin to imagine.

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