He Gave Me a Beaded Toy Car and Bought Her a Luxury Car Chapter 08

He Gave Me a Beaded Toy Car and Bought Her a Luxury Car Chapter 08

The living room looked like a war zone. Broken furniture and shattered decorations covered every surface.

A smashed picture frame lay by the door. Inside it-our wedding photo. My face had been scribbled out with black marker. Every other photo in the house had been treated the same way. Defaced beyond recognition.

I didn’t need to guess who’d done it. Tristan had grown up spoiled. When he lost his temper, he broke things. That day must have really set him off.

I stepped around the debris and walked further in. The deeper I went, the worse it got.

The handmade pottery from our seventh anniversary? Smashed.

The couple’s painting from our sixth? Ruined with ink.

The crystal puzzle from our fifth? Dumped in the fish tank like garbage.

Every keepsake from our years together. Destroyed. Not a single one survived.

Then I reached the upstairs study. On the desk sat the little trinkets Faye had given him. Each one carefully

preserved in a glass display case.

So some things did survive. Just nothing that had anything to do with me.

A hanger clattered at my feet. Then Tristan’s voice, “You’ve got some nerve showing up here! This isn’t your

home anymore! Get out!”

I stepped back. “I came to get my things. I’ll leave once I have them.”

Tristan sneered and pointed at the wreckage downstairs. “Everything down there is yours! Take it all!”

I walked around him toward the bedroom. He blocked my path.

“Give me back my Perler bead car! I made that myself! You have no right to keep it!”

I thought of that ugly little bead car. I laughed. “I threw that thing away ages ago. If you want it, check the

dumpster.”

His eyes went wide with rage. “Get out! This is my house!”

I stepped back and put distance between us. “This house is shared marital property. Half of it belongs to me.

You don’t get to throw me out.”

Since yelling didn’t work, he threw another tantrum. Every time I picked something up, he snatched it away. He’d smash it. Or if it wouldn’t break, he’d cut it up with scissors.

“That shirt? I paid to have it pressed. You can’t take it!”

“That razor? I picked it out. You can’t take it!”

“That laptop? I’m the one who got it repaired. You’re not taking that either.”

I used to think his childishness was cute. Now it just seemed pathetic.

As I watched him destroy item after item, I decided to leave everything behind. I’d come back because I couldn’t bear to lose the things we’d shared. But now? I might as well start fresh with all new things.

I turned to go. Tristan’s voice cracked as he shouted after me. “Stop!”

He was crying now. “Give me back the wedding ring I picked out! It’s mine!”

I held up my bare hand. “The ring never came back after you said you were taking it to be cleaned. Ask your precious assistant where it is.”

I walked out without looking back. But before I reached the door, two arms wrapped around me from behind.