Five Days After My Wedding, My Stepson Brought an Attorney to Take My House—He Didn’t Know About My $38 Million

“I don’t care.”

He stared at me.

“It’s my house too.”

“No.”

He flinched.

“You never transferred it.”

“You’re still my husband.”

“You were my husband five days ago.”

“That doesn’t mean you can throw me out.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

I walked toward the stairs.

He followed.

“Where are you going?”

“To pack a bag.”

“June.”

I turned around.

“I don’t know what is real anymore.”

He stood silently.

“And until I know,” I continued, “I don’t want to sleep under the same roof as you.”

I packed a suitcase.

Not because I intended to disappear.

Because I needed distance.

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