“So you took away my chance to try to save you!”
Sarah gave him a faint, sad smile.
“There was no saving me, Victor.”
Victor covered his eyes.
“I’m alive because part of your body is inside me while you’re lying here dying.”
“My illness wasn’t caused by you.”
“But you could have bought yourself more time!”
“I chose how I wanted to spend the time I had left.”
Victor raised his head.
“And did you also choose to burn our house to the ground?”
Sarah looked at him.
“Yes.”
The answer left him speechless.
“That was our home for twenty-two years!”
“It was a house deeded solely in my name.”
“It was our life!”
“Our life ended the moment I heard you tell your mistress I was nothing more than a piece of furniture.”
Victor went completely still.
The room fell silent.
“You… heard that call?”
“Every word,” Sarah replied. “The address. The garden. The garage. Your promise that you would give my house to Rita.”
“I was on heavy pain medication! I was disoriented—”
“You were conscious enough to explain that I lived only to take care of you because I was incapable of doing anything else.”
Victor had nothing to say.
Sarah looked toward the window.
“I taught elementary school for thirty-four years. I helped hundreds of children learn how to read. I cared for my parents as they were dying. I managed our home, handled our bills, and nursed you through end-stage renal failure.”
Her eyes returned to him.
“And you reduced my entire existence to a servant who brings you water.”
“Forgive me,” Victor choked out. “Sarah, please.”
“That apology is very late.”
“Is that why you destroyed everything? Revenge?”
Sarah remained quiet for a moment.
“I didn’t want another woman sleeping in my bed, using my mother’s china, and treating my death like a convenient doorway into a better life. I made a dangerous and destructive decision, and I’m not proud of it. But I could not allow the home I built to become a trophy for your mistress.”
“You could have hurt someone!”
“I made sure the house was empty,” Sarah said quietly. “It was still a terrible decision.”
Victor rubbed his forehead.
“And the insurance money?”
“The claim was paid after the investigation was completed.”
“And you gave four million dollars away?”
“To the shelter.”
“Why?”
“For years, I volunteered there. Young people turn eighteen and are pushed out of foster care without family, savings, a laptop, or even a security deposit for an apartment. Now the endowment can fund housing and education for years.”
Victor ran a shaking hand through his hair.
“Did you leave anything for me?”
NEXT PAGE
