Page 9 of The Vow Thief
Lily, sunglasses low, easing into the driveway. Her hand found a key, slid it into the lock, and the door opened as if the house expected her.
Panic crawled all over me when I watched her vanish up the stairs.
I was out of the chair in an instant, taking the steps two at a time.
The master bedroom was immaculate. Too immaculate. The bed was made tight enough to pass a hotel inspection, with pillows aligned and no scent out of place. I scanned the dresser, the nightstands, and even the closet floor. Nothing obvious, but that was the problem. She had been careful.
My pulse climbed as I crossed the hall to Emily’s room. The familiar chaos of toys and dress-up clothes was in its usual state of half-order, but something was wrong. I stepped closer to the shelf lined with unicorn figurines, my eyes caught on one with a jagged edge where its wing should be.
This unicorn was no throwaway toy. Emily had given it pride of position on her shelf, a marker of what she cherished. Its clean break screamed deliberate.
Rage came first, fear right behind it, tangled so tight I could not tell which one was in control.
In two strides, I was in Tommy’s room. His nightstand was bare. I crouched, scanned the floor, and saw it. Tommy’s small soccer trophy, the one he had clutched in the backseat on the ride home, the one he had shoved into every visitor’s hands just so they would notice. Now it lay cracked and bent, as if Lily had ground her heel into it.
The sight didn’t just sting. It scorched. My son’s pride had been reduced to collateral by that bitch.
This was my house. My children. My line in the sand. And Lily had crossed it.
This house was where I had first heard the words, I slept with someone else. Where I had crumpled to the floor and grieved a marriage I thought was unbreakable. Where I had stood back up because two small faces depended on me.
And Lily had walked right in.
Through my front door, into my kitchen, and into my office.
Into my rooms.
Across the floors where my children played, slept, and dreamed without fear.
The image of her moving through these spaces was worse than trespass. It was desecration.
How the hell did she get a key?
He had ended it with her months ago. This was Lily’s brand of poison, calculated, smug, invasive.
I could picture her sliding the key into the lock with that self-satisfied smile, convinced she could leave her fingerprints on everything without consequence.
But this would be her undoing.
I wasn’t just furious as Matt’s wife. I was livid as their mother.
My hands curled into fists, nails biting my palms. Lily wasn’t just circling Matt anymore. She had crossed into my children’s world.
She would regret it.
Thirty minutes later, Matt walked through the door. He paused, eyes narrowing as if he’d walked into the middle of something dangerous.“Is everything okay?”
I gave him the smallest of smiles, the kind that didn’t reach my eyes.“Come with me. You need to see this.”
In the home office, I set the photos down on the desk one by one. Lily in his chair. Lily leaning close. Lily with that practiced smirk. Evidence, laid out like exhibits at trial.
Matt’s expression darkened.“Where the hell did these…”
“Not done yet.” My voice stayed cool. I pulled up the security footage and hit play. Lily walked in like an intruder with a key and disappeared upstairs.
He went rigid.“Son of a…”
“Not done yet.” I took his hand and led him upstairs, first into Emily’s room, showing him the broken unicorn, then into Tommy’s, where the soccer trophy lay cracked on the floor.
