Chapter 7 - The Empty CounterIt took twenty-two minutes for Lorraine and Tabitha to pack their bags, grab their dogs, and huff out of the apartment. The elevator doors had barely closed on their curses before Garrett slammed the front door shut and spun around to face me.
"Are you happy now?!" he yelled, throwing his arms in the air. "You just threw my mother and sister out onto the street! On your birthday!"
"They are staying at the Marriott downtown," I replied, walking into the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels and a bottle of carpet cleaner. "Tabitha put it on her business card twenty minutes before she got here. I saw the confirmation on the kitchen counter."
Garrett blinked, caught off guard. "That's... that's not the point, Maya! You humiliated me in front of my family!"
"You humiliated yourself, Garrett," I said, kneeling on the rug to dab at the red wine spot. "You conspired with your mother to take out an eighty-thousand-dollar loan against my pre-marital property to pay for your sister's debt. Did you honestly think I would just sign it?"
Garrett walked over, rubbing the back of his neck, shifting from anger to the familiar, defensive guilt he always used when caught.
"It wasn't a conspiracy, Maya," he said, lowering his voice into a soft, pleading tone. "Tabitha is in real trouble. Her creditors are threatening to sue her. My mom was desperate. We were going to pay the HELOC back! I was going to cover the monthly payments!"
I stopped dabbing the rug and looked up at him.
"With what money, Garrett? You haven't paid your own car insurance in three months. I found the final notice in the mail last week."
Garrett flinched. He opened his mouth, closed it, and took a step back.
"I’m your husband, Maya," he whispered, trying to make his eyes look soft and wounded. "Marriage is supposed to be a partnership. We're supposed to help each other."
"A partnership requires honesty," I said, rising to my feet. "Not forty-seven thousand dollars of quiet transfers."
I carried the soiled paper towels to the trash, washed my hands, and picked up my purse from the counter.
"Where are you going?" Garrett asked, panic creeping into his voice as he saw me head for the front door. "It's eight o'clock! We haven't even had dinner!"
"I am going to a hotel," I said, sliding my keycard into my pocket. "And tomorrow morning at nine, my attorney is serving you with a thirty-day notice to vacate this property."
"Maya, wait! You can't just leave!" Garrett reached for my arm.
May you like
I turned quickly, looking directly into his eyes with a sharpness that made his hand freeze in mid-air.
"Do not touch me, Garrett," I said softly. "The facts are on the table. Think about them tonight."
