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Fulfillment(12)

By:K.M. Golland


***

I drove my Ford Territory into my driveway, having chosen my car over Bryce’s collection for its rather generous storage capacity. I had to collect the last of my clothes, shoes, toiletries and a few things that I wanted from around the house. I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The house was clean and tidy, an indication that Rick really was coping and moving on with his life. I smiled at that notion then put my bag and keys down on the buffet like I had for many years—second nature, I guess.

Rick and I hadn’t yet discussed dividing our assets, and as terrible as it was, we just hadn’t had the time nor the desire really. I had pretty much everything I needed at the apartment and Rick...well...he had five million dollars in his bank account. So, dividing up our bits and pieces was not a priority for either of us. To be honest, I didn’t want the material things; I couldn’t care less about the TVs, couches, caravan and household furniture. What I wanted were the things that held sentimental value to me, the things that made me smile and had happy memories.

I made my way to the spare room, pulling out a suitcase and dragging it toward my old bedroom when Claire walked out. We both screamed simultaneously in shock, not expecting each other to be there.

“Geezus! Fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” I said as I put my hand to my chest and looked her up and down. I quickly took note that she was wearing one of my dresses together with a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

“Shit! Sorry, you scared me too,” she answered with an instant blush of awkwardness across her face.

“Are you wearing my dress?” I asked—or more to the point—accused.

She looked down at the dress and then back up to me. “Um...yes. I didn’t have anything else to put on.”





I don’t really know what came over me at that point. All I remember was seeing red—as in screaming bloody murder red. I could only imagine it looking like I was a bull in Pamplona’s infamous running of the bulls race and Claire one of the shit-scared runners. I basically chased her out of the house, steam surging out of my nostrils, and if I’d had horns like one of those bulls, I could guarantee you they would have pierced the bitch’s arse.

After yelling at her to get out of my house, shoving her handbag into her chest, snatching back my towel and slamming the door in her face, I started angrily packing up everything I could see. How dare she come in here and start wearing my clothes, eating from my fridge, showering in my shower and more than likely sleeping in my bed. Bitch!

I grabbed all my clothes and shoved them in the suitcase. I picked up every last bottle of perfume and every toiletry that I could find. I grabbed my photo albums, pictures from the walls, potted plants, and even my KitchenAid and Aldi coffee machine. I stomped around the house looking for things I couldn’t bear for her to touch—like my decorative couch pillows. Okay, so I only paid five dollars each for them at K-Mart, but they were pretty and I liked them, and I was not about to leave them there and let her get comfortably cosy with them. Fuck her. I forcefully squished as much as I could into my car and took off to pick up the kids from school.

***

Nate and Charli had been excited to see me waiting for them when the bell rang. But my presence at the school probably made the whole gossip-about-my-love-life problem worse, as I was clearly in a feral mood and my car was noticeably filled to the brink with all kinds of shit. One could have easily mistaken me for living out of my car, and I’m sure the rumour mill would soon reflect that.

Tash and Steph had asked me what was wrong, but I was in no mood to elaborate, so I promised them I was fine and that I would soon have them all over for coffee and a tour of my new home.

***

My mind was miles away as I drove toward the city, thinking about Rick, Claire, my house and the fact I now wanted to speak to my lawyer—who just happened to be my old boss. Charlotte had been talking non-stop about her friend Addison’s sleepover party that was in a few weeks’ time. I hadn’t really been listening to much of what was coming out of her overzealous mouth when my phone rang.

The Bluetooth feature in my car automatically answered it.

“Hello,” I answered out loud.

“Hi, beautiful—”

“Hi, Bryce,” interrupted Charli.

“Charli!” I snapped. “Don’t interrupt.”

After a moment of silence, Bryce’s voice came through the speaker again. “Alexis, is everything all right?”

I didn’t normally yell at Charli for something as minor and innocent as simply saying hello and Bryce was fully aware of that. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just tired and I have a headache and—”