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The smugness on Andrew's face faded as I lifted my hand, sticking out my finger and poking it right into his chest. "No, Andrew. You're not stepping one foot insidemyhouse."
Andrew's eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting my audacity. "Oh, really?" he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. Ashley remained silent, her smirk turning into a frown, as if even she could sense that something had changed.
"Yes, really," I replied, mustering all the confidence I could. "You think you can just bulldoze your way into my life again, take whatever you want, and leave? That's not how it works. Not anymore."
Andrew opened his mouth to retort, but I pressed on. "You and I are done, Andrew. We've been done for a long time. And yet here you are, trying to control and manipulate me like you did when we were married. Well, guess what? I'm not that person anymore. I'm not the same Jude who let you walk all over her."
I felt my face heating up from pure anger. "You have a new life, with Ashley, and I have mine. Whatever connection we had, you broke it when you cheated on me. You’re not coming in. You're not taking anything. You're leaving. And this time, it's for good."
The stunned silence that followed my speech was so gratifying, I could almost taste it. Andrew's face paled and his cocky stance deflated.
"And one more thing," I added, my gaze never leaving his, "I don’t need Tony, or anyone else, to protect me from you. I can handle you just fine on my own, which is what I’m doing this very moment. Now get the fuck off my property before I have you both arrested for trespassing and harassment."
Andrew's usually smug expression was replaced by a shell-shocked, blank stare. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then tried again, managing to spit out a meek, "Fine."
Ashley looked at him, her icy eyes wide with disbelief. She turned back to me, her mouth half-open, but she must have thought better of it because she snapped it shut and stomped off toward the truck. Andrew, looking like a sulky teenager who'd just been grounded, followed her without another word.
From the doorway, I watched them. Ashley climbed into the passenger seat, her face a mask of fury and embarrassment. Andrew slid into the driver’s seat, his shoulders hunched and defeat clear on his face. With a loud roar, the truck pulled out of my driveway, leaving tire tracks in its wake.
A sense of satisfaction filled me as I watched the vehicle disappear down the road. I had finally stood up to Andrew and his bullying, and it felt damn good.
As I closed the door, a cold gust of wind swirled around me, carrying with it the first few delicate flakes of snow. I took a deep breath, watching as the world around me started to resemble a snow globe. I thought of the baby growing inside me, and a nurturing warmth spread through my body.
There would be challenges ahead, especially with Tony still in Spain and the baby news waiting to be delivered. But if I could face down Andrew and Ashley, I could face anything. I smiled, finally at peace, as the snow continued to fall.
A sudden determination took over me. I looked at the bare and undecorated front lawn. The Christmas decorations were still in the garage, waiting to be put on display. Making up my mind, I bundled myself up in a warm coat and boots, with Sadie curiously following me to the door.
We stepped outside into the chilly evening air. With the snow gently falling, it was a perfect time to put up the decorations. The holiday spirit was already in the air, and despite what had just happened, I felt oddly cheerful.
While Sadie watched from the porch, occasionally darting out to catch falling snowflakes with her tongue, I got to work. I focused on the decorations that didn’t require ladders or heavy lifting, mindful of my condition. The twinkling lights and festive ornaments gradually transformed the front lawn, each piece bringing a small sense of accomplishment.
Once the last piece was in place, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. There was something undeniably satisfying about seeing the Christmas decorations light up the front lawn, illuminating the falling snow.
Back inside, I traded my winter gear for some cozy loungewear. I started a fire in the fireplace, the orange flames crackling and dancing, providing a comforting warmth against the winter chill. Settling down on the couch with a hot cup of tea, I curled up under a blanket, Sadie snuggling up beside me.
A soft ping drew my attention to my phone. It was a text from my mom, overflowing with excitement about their upcoming visit. I smiled, picturing the joyful chaos my parents would bring.
As I watched the flames dance in the fireplace, a calm sense of resolution settled over me. I thought of the baby growing inside me, and for the first time, it didn't feel like a terrifying unknown.
Despite the hole that Tony’s absence left in my life, I realized I was okay with it. Of course, I wanted him to be a part of our lives, but I was ready to face the prospect of raising the baby alone if he wasn't in the picture.
The showdown with Andrew had proven that I was stronger than I had realized. With that thought in mind, I closed my eyes, the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle snores from Sadie lulling me into a sense of peace and contentment that I hadn’t known in a long, long while.
Chapter 32
Jude
Time started to warp, blending the handful of days before Christmas into a hazy mess. Each email notification felt like a cruel reminder of the distance between us. Tony and I were still technically in the same world, but as his responses became less frequent and more sterile, I felt more like I was reading a medical journal than correspondence from the father of my child.
"It's like he's just Dr. Tony, M.D. and that’s it," I said to Sally one day, staring at the latest email update. “Dad’s oxygen levels are stabilizing. The nurses say he's responding well to therapy. Mom's doing alright.”
“Maybe this is his way of dealing with it,” Sally had said. “I mean, most men aren’t exactly emotionally expansive. He’s going through a difficult time, and maybe retreating to his clinical, professional mode is how he’s coping.”
She had a point. All the same, it was still hard.
There were no sweet nothings, no shared jokes, no affectionate sign offs. Just the facts, plain and simple. In a way, I could understand. Sally was right—maybe it was how Tony dealt with crises, he used logic and efficiency. But understanding didn't make it hurt any less.
Every new message from him carried an undercurrent of distance, an emotional detachment that I found harder to bear than the physical one. As the days wore on, the words I miss you–words he seemingly had typed so easily before–disappeared from his emails.
