Back at my house, I gave Alice a warm bathrobe and clean clothes. She looked like a completely different woman when she came out of the shower—refreshed, almost glowing.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” she said.
“I wanted to.”
She sat at the kitchen table with me, sipping tea.
“When’s the last time someone did something kind for you?” she asked.
I froze. I couldn’t remember.
Alice laughed softly. “That long, huh?”
I laughed too, surprised by how at ease I felt. I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Hours later, the front door slammed.
Carter.
He walked into the kitchen, froze, and stared at Alice.
“What the—who is this?”
Then something strange happened. His face drained of color. He whispered: “Mom?”
Alice calmly looked at him. “Hello, Carter.”
“You’re not staying here!” he snapped.
Alice crossed her arms. “So that’s how you greet your mother now?”
“You stopped being my mother the moment you walked out.”
“I didn’t leave. You threw me out.”
“You were selfish. You cared more about your career than your family.”
“No. I cared about not losing myself.”
They stared each other down.
Then Carter turned to me.
“Why the hell is she in my house?”
“Our house,” I corrected coldly.
“Wrong. After we married, everything became mine. Get her out.”
I reached into my pocket, took out my house key, and dropped it on the floor.
“You can keep the house, Carter. But you’re losing your wife. And your child.”
I turned away, not even flinching at his protests.
Alice and I walked out together, into the cold night air. I didn’t have a plan—but for once, I felt free.
“Now what?” I asked.
Alice smiled. “Follow me.”
Around the corner, a sleek black Mercedes was parked.
“You stole a car?” I asked, stunned.
She chuckled. “No, honey. It’s mine.”
“You’re not homeless?”
“I was. Now I’m not. I run my own company. I had to know if you were kind—to see if my grandchild would be raised by someone who sees people, not their labels.”
I stared at her, shocked.
“You were testing me?”
“In a way. But now, it doesn’t matter. I’m here to help you.”
Tears filled my eyes. “Thank you.”
Weeks passed. I was adjusting to this new life. Alice gave me space, comfort, and dignity.
Then one day, the doorbell rang.
It was Carter.
He looked… broken.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to fix things.”
Alice folded her arms. “It’s a little late for that.”
He looked at me. “I’ll change—for our child.”
I studied him.
“Start with therapy. Then we’ll talk.”
Whether he meant it or not didn’t matter.
I had already taken back my life. And this time—I wasn’t giving it away again.