It wasn’t something Malcolm allowed, but I bought the girls phones and laptops when he died because I felt they were old enough. There are still rules around the usage, and Noah helps me monitor it, but they’re also old enough to have some privacy.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the Airbnb and finalise everything there.
But for now, I settle on the couch in front of the television and enjoy some time to myself.
This is the most at peace I’ve felt in months, and it’s long overdue.
I can’t wait to see what this new life brings.
Monday morning is chaotic.
But once everyone’s off to school and Noah’s headed to a job interview, I take a moment to make a to-do list.
My priority is getting the decking out the back sorted. It’s clear that part of it rotted and that’s been demolished, but nothing’s been done before that. I need it redone so there’s a gentle step down to the back lawn and not the drop that exists right now.
I’m looking forward to sitting out there with a cup of coffee and enjoying the peace that comes with buying my own home.
Not Malcolm’s anymore.
No one else’s.
This is the legacy I’ll leave my children.
I’m nervous—Malcolm always took care of everything to do with the house, but it doesn’t take long to find listings for handyman businesses in the area.
The one with the best ratings looks good.
It’s local and when I click on the reviews, they’re glowing.
Might as well start with this one.
I pick up my phone and dial.
“Handy Home Services,” a bright female voice answers.
“Hi. My name is Emma, and I need to get some work done around my house. The deck needs rebuilding, and there are some doors and windows that need replacing or fixing.”
“I can send someone round to do a quote.” She’s so chirpy, and my racing heart begins to slow.
Why did I think this would be hard?
She doesn’t know I’m scared. This is just some woman on the phone asking about their services.
“That sounds great.”
“I can check the schedule and give you a call back if you’d like?”
I take a deep breath. “Wonderful.”
“If I could just get your name and number …”
For a moment I blank. “Uh, Emma. Emma N … Chase.”
Fuck him. I’m reclaiming me.
Once I’ve given her my number, I end the call, sitting for a moment and staring at my phone.
This is what freedom’s like. Sorting things out for myself.
