As I wondered where I would go, the rumble of a car engine cut through my thoughts. A sleek black BMW pulled up, and out stepped Logan’s grandfather, Mr. Duncan.
Mr. Duncan wasn’t just the head of the family, he was a self-made man known for his sharp mind and even sharper tongue. Despite Logan’s shortcomings, Mr. Duncan had always treated me with kindness.
As he took in the scene – my belongings on the lawn, Brenda on the porch, and Logan nowhere to be seen – his expression turned dark. And then he demanded an explanation.
“What the hell is going on here?!” he boomed, his voice shaking the air.
Logan appeared from inside, his usual confidence faltering. “Grandpa, this isn’t a good time. Natasha and I -”
“I don’t care what time it is,” Mr. Duncan interrupted. “Why is Natasha’s stuff on the lawn, and who is that…woman?”
“Grandpa, Natasha and I are done. She doesn’t belong here anymore,” Logan stammered.
But Mr. Duncan’s glare was unwavering. “Let me remind you, Logan, this house belongs to me. I let you live here because you were building a family with Natasha. If that’s no longer the case, then you’re the one who needs to leave.”
Logan’s jaw dropped. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Not only that,” Mr. Duncan said, his voice cold and deliberate. “But as of now, you’re cut off. No money, no support, nothing. You’ve disgraced this family enough.”
Logan’s protests fell on deaf ears. He and Brenda were gone within the hour, and Mr. Duncan turned to me with a softer expression.
“Natasha, I came here today to offer help with IVF,” he said. “But it seems I arrived just in time to see this mess. You don’t deserve this. Consider this house yours. I’ll handle the paperwork.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears as I nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness and generosity.
Over the next few days, Mr. Duncan fulfilled his promise. My name went on the deed, and Logan was left to fend for himself. Brenda, predictably, didn’t stick around once the money dried up.
A week later, Logan showed up at the house, disheveled and desperate. “I made a mistake,” he pleaded. “Natasha, please call Grandpa. He’ll listen to you.”
But this time, I had found my voice. “No,” I said firmly, relishing the satisfaction of finally standing up for myself. “You made your bed. Now lie in it.”
I slammed the door in his face, ignoring his pleas. And for the first time in years, I felt free. Logan’s betrayal had broken me, but it also gave me the chance to rebuild my life – and this time, on my own terms.