I Thought Love Had to Be Earned Through Chores, They Hugged Me Chapter 09

I Thought Love Had to Be Earned Through Chores, They Hugged Me Chapter 09

On discharge day, no one from the Grant family showed up. I stood at the hospital entrance for ten minutes. My hands started going cold. Had I been in the hospital too long? Spent too much of their money? Were they already tired of me? Was my probation officially over?

I turned and walked toward the nursing station. “Ma’am, do you need any-

A horn blared. Cole leaned out the car window. “Marnie Grant! Where exactly are you trying to

clock in now?!”

The breath rushed out of me. When I got closer, I saw the whole family in the car. Catherine said they’d hit traffic. Edward showed me the dashcam to prove it. I felt a little embarrassed.

“You really didn’t have to provide evidence.”

Cole snorted. “You say that, but you’ve already mapped out three escape routes and a backup

plan, haven’t you?”

Caught. I stared at the floor and played dead.

When we got back to the Grant estate, I pushed open the door and stopped cold. The living room was a disaster zone. Edward was dragging a mop through puddles of water. Catherine had folded a shirt into something resembling a dumpling. Cole was crouched over an electrical socket, the instruction manual upside down in his hands.

“Stop!”

Three heads whipped toward me. I lunged for the tools. Cole held the screwdriver above his head. “Doctor’s orders. No working.”

“You’re not working-you’re committing murder! Against that socket!”

“I cut the power.”

“You cut the TV!”

He was silent for two full seconds. Then he stepped back.

Butler Henderson was laughing from the corner. Apparently, the psychologist had given the family homework: ensure I spend at least four hours a day doing absolutely nothing. All household tasks were to be divided among everyone else.

I sat on the couch, practically vibrating with discomfort. Catherine set a plate of sliced fruit in

front of me. “Eat.”

“Fruit needs to be peeled.”

“I peeled it.”

“The plate needs washing.”

“Your dad’s washing it.”

“The trash needs taking out.”

“Your brother’s taking it.”

I was starting to panic. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

Three voices, perfectly in unison: “Live.”

One word. Almost knocked me flat. I picked up an apple slice and bit into it. Food I hadn’t

worked for-and somehow, it tasted just as sweet.

That evening, the police brought a letter from Annabel. She’d confessed to everything-the marketing account, Frances, all of it. At the end, she asked: Has the Grant family already thrown me away?

I read it for a long time. I didn’t write back. Not because I was heartless-because that answer wasn’t mine to give. The choices she’d made had consequences. Being afraid of abandonment didn’t give anyone the right to use other people’s lives as stepping stones.

The next morning, I went to see her. Through the glass, she looked much thinner, “Here to laugh at me?”

I shook my head. “I came to tell you something. Whether you’re loved-it has nothing to do with whether you’re useful.”

Her eyes reddened.

“But when you mess up, you have to own it. You don’t just owe me You owe everyone in that house. Do your time. And when you get out, learn how to be a decent person first.”

She let out a broken laugh. “Will you ever forgive me?”

I thought about it. “Not right now. Depends on your performance going forward.”

She nodded. I left without looking back. The sun hit my shoulders, warm and steady. I realized I hadn’t done a single chore yet that day. But I was breathing just fine. And nobody had yelled

at me for it.