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Knowing I would be doing this, I gave my house manager a paid day off.
I picked a trendy, secure building downtown that had a quick move-in date available. It’s young, fresh, and exactly what I want for this next chapter in my life.
Mrs. Kevin Matheson is dead with this last stake in the ground.
With a final check around this house, I am ready to close this chapter.
My phone buzzes in my purse. Pulling it out slowly, I see it’s Kevin calling me. I’m surprised he is, but I’m resolved in our ending. I click the side button on my phone to send it to voicemail.
A few moments go by, and I see I have a voicemail now.
Nervously, I click on it and listen.
“Mrs. Matheson, this is Lemon Carter, your husband’s assistant. He wanted me to call and thank you for the lunch you left behind. Unfortunately, we had already stopped to eat lunch after I handled his doctor’s appointment. His intern said the lunch you brought was delicious. Also, dinner with Frank and Missy Jenkins has been scheduled for next Saturday evening. Your attendance is required.”
Click.
That’s rich. I don’t care if Kevin was the one to ask her or if she felt the need all on her own to piss on her territory to try and show dominance. Kevin is exactly who I think he is.
And I certainly will not be attending dinner next Saturday at the Jenkins residence. He can explain to them why he needs to cancel.
After that message, I decide to leave Kevin a note along with my rings and the most important item… a copy of the courtyard fucking on a USB drive. I had several copies made. I’m not about to let him screw me over with this, at least.
I fold it up and place a singular kiss at the center of the paper so my red lips leave a mark. The last kiss he’ll get from me.
This new version of me is one for dramatics it seems.
I’m feeling invigorated as I arrive at my new apartment. This is it. I’m finally moving on from Kevin after months of sneaking around and meticulous planning.
A man with white hair and a round belly greets me at the front of the building. My new doorman. He tips his hat to me as he lets me in. A security guard stands near the reception desk. I smile at them both as I head up to my new apartment.
Stepping inside my tenth-floor apartment feels like a transformation. I finally did this. After all this time, I am on my own.
I put my bag down and take it all in. This is where my new life begins.
A feeling of peace washes over me.
I haven’t had enough time to decorate the new space. The walls are empty, and the cabinets are filled with plastic cutlery and paper plates instead of real dishes, but it’s mine to do with as I please. I want to take my time and do it right, exactly how I want it to be.
I’ll get to it eventually. For tonight, I’m happy to have a new, blue velvet couch set up in front of a gas fireplace and a television show on in the background.
Moving on from Kevin is the right decision. Even if he didn’t cheat on me, I’d been living a miserable existence.
I don’t have the luxury to relax right now—I need to dig into the revelations I found at Kevin’s office.
I begin a simple search online for “True Innings Corporation” and come up with basically nothing. A terrible website with no information and a few public domain documents. No additional noteworthy records or any real sign that it’s real. This company is a ghost. It’s a shell of a company.
I’ve got to grab the files I gathered from his computer.
The rest of the night, I read everything I could get printed on time and continue my online search. I have a bad feeling I’m going to come up empty-handed.
The next day, I’m anxious for Kevin to contact me. I know he’s not going to be happy when he figures out that I left.
I wait all day at my apartment to avoid having him scream at me in a public place or have to send a dozen calls to voicemail, but nothing comes. No call, text, or email from Kevin or anyone who would speak on his behalf. It’s unexpected.
I don’t want to enter into this false sense of security that Kevin won’t be reaching out to me. I wish I could assume he won’t, but this isn’t the Kevin I’ve come to know after the past few years.
He may not want me anymore, but that doesn’t mean he will let his toys out to play without his approval.
