Chapter 3 - The Woman He Thought He Could ReplaceSamantha arrived that evening.
She stepped out of her SUV wearing designer sunglasses and carrying two suitcases.
She stopped when she saw the burned house.
“What happened?”
Frank didn't answer.
She looked at him.
“Where's Charlotte?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I don't know.”
Samantha's expression hardened.
“You said the house would be mine.”
Frank stared at her.
“It was supposed to be.”
“Supposed to be?”
She crossed her arms.
“What does that mean?”
Frank's temper rose.
“Give me a minute.”
“You've had three days.”
“I was in the hospital.”
“Because Charlotte gave you her kidney.”
Frank went silent.
Samantha looked away.
“Did you at least get the title transferred?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Charlotte didn't sign anything.”
Samantha stared at him.
“You told me you had this handled.”
“I thought I did.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You thought?”
Frank had never heard Samantha speak to him that way.
Then a tow truck arrived.
A firefighter approached.
“Mr. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“We need you to sign the property release.”
Frank signed.
The firefighter looked at the papers.
“Actually, you're not the owner.”
Frank froze.
“What?”
“The property is registered to Charlotte Miller.”
“I know.”
“No, sir. I mean legally.”
The firefighter showed him the report.
“Your name isn't on the deed.”
Frank felt his face burn.
“That's impossible.”
“It isn't.”
Samantha watched.
Her expression slowly changed.
“Frank.”
He turned.
She held up her phone.
“I just received something.”
An email.
From Charlotte's attorney.
The message was simple.
Mr. Miller, effective immediately, you are prohibited from entering or making claims against any property held by Charlotte Miller or the Miller Family Trust.
Frank's hands shook.
He called the attorney.
The call lasted less than five minutes.
When it ended, he looked devastated.
“What did he say?” Samantha asked.
Frank swallowed.
“Charlotte owns everything.”
Samantha stared at him.
“Everything?”
“The house.”
“The investments.”
“The accounts.”
“Most of the property.”
Samantha's face changed.
Then she picked up her suitcase.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Your home?”
She looked at him.
“Mine.”
Frank grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
She pulled away.
“You told me you were leaving your wife.”
“I am.”
“You told me you were rich.”
“I am.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You were rich because your wife was generous enough to let you pretend.”
She walked away.
Frank stood alone beside the ashes.
For the first time in years, he realized he had confused possession with love.
He thought because Charlotte stayed, she belonged to him.
He thought because she cooked, taught, cleaned, saved, and sacrificed, she had no life beyond him.
But Charlotte had never been his furniture.
May you like
She had been the foundation.
And he had just burned the house built on it.
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