The remaining belongings were scheduled for collection the following day.
By early evening, the lawn was clear.
The house was silent.
And I stood alone inside the front hallway holding a new set of keys.
For the first time, the house on Habersham Road was unquestionably mine.
I didn’t move in immediately.
There were too many financial issues to untangle.
And emotionally, I needed time before sleeping beneath that roof.
But the next morning, I returned alone.
I unlocked the door with my own key.
Then I walked through the empty rooms in the early sunlight.
Eventually, I went to the back porch.
Walter’s porch.
The old wicker chairs were still there.
I sat in the chair he had always used and looked out toward the neglected roses.
That was when I finally cried.
Not because Grant had left me.
Not because Patricia hated me.
I cried for Walter.
