“If you can’t support my mother when she needs help, maybe you should stay somewhere else for a few days.”
Margaret looked at him.
A tiny smile touched her mouth.
That smile made my decision for me.
I stood.
“Okay.”
Adrian blinked.
“What?”
“I’ll stay somewhere else.”
His expression changed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you said.”
“Claire.”
“I’m tired.”
“Can we not turn this into a performance?”
I looked at Margaret.
Then at him.
“I’m the only person in this room not performing.”
I went upstairs.
Packed enough for a week.
Laptop.
Medication.
Work clothes.
Passport.
Two folders from my office.
Adrian followed me into the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“A hotel.”
“For how long?”
“You suggested a few days.”
“I was angry.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t mean you just walk out.”
I zipped the suitcase.
“You just told me to.”
He stood in the doorway.
Then noticed the folders.
“What’s that?”
“Work.”
It wasn’t.
Not entirely.
One folder contained household records.
The other contained documents related to the Cedarcrest Heights property.
Adrian watched me carry them downstairs.
Margaret was still at the table.
She looked almost pleased.
“Some distance might help,” she said.
I stopped.
“Margaret?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t spend the seventy-two thousand.”
