My Ex Husband Trashed My House Until My Father Stepped In

So I gave it one more day.

Then I drove over, sat in my car for twenty minutes, walked up to my red front door, and turned the key.

And heard the water.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

The front hall looked strange. Empty. Brian had taken the bench and the coat rack and the little table where we used to drop our keys. There were pale rectangles on the wall where pictures had hung. I’d expected that. I’d prepared myself for that.