Chapter 7
The real estate agent, a brisk and efficient woman named Evelyn, arrived promptly at nine o'clock on Tuesday morning. Evelyn swept through the front door with a clipboard and a bright, practiced smile, entirely oblivious to the emotional wreckage that had occurred in the backyard just days prior.
"Lovely property," Evelyn remarked, tapping her pen against her clipboard as she walked through the living room. "The neighborhood is fantastic for couples starting out. With a little staging, we should have multiple offers within the first week."
Clara stood near the kitchen island, dressed in dark trousers and a crisp white blouse, her dark reddish hair tied back neatly. She maintained a polite, professional facade, nodding at Evelyn’s assessment. Maya stood a few paces away, wearing her light blue t-shirt and black pants, keeping her hands tucked into her pockets to hide their slight tremor.
"We'd like to price it competitively for a quick sale," Maya interjected, her voice smooth despite the nervous flutter in her chest. "We’re looking to close by the end of next month."
Evelyn made a note on her pad and looked up with a knowing smile. "Relocating for work, I assume? It happens all the time. Well, don't you worry about a thing. I'll handle the open house logistics, and we’ll make this transition as smooth as possible for both of you."
"Thank you, Evelyn," Clara said smoothly. "We appreciate your efficiency."
After Evelyn finished her walk-through and departed with a promise to send over the paperwork by evening, the front door clicked shut, leaving the two women alone again in the quiet house. The professional mask dropped instantly from Clara’s face, her shoulders sagging as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Well, that part was painless," Maya murmured, leaning against the opposite wall.
"The easy part is always selling the property," Clara replied softly, staring out the window toward the spot by the air conditioning unit where her frantic outburst had taken place. "It's untangling the lives we built inside it that’s going to be impossible."
May you like
Maya pushed off the wall and took a hesitant step toward Clara, stopping a few feet away. "I met with the counselor yesterday, Clara. Alone, obviously. We talked about the root causes of the compulsion—the financial anxiety I inherited, the lies I told myself to justify taking out those loans without telling you. It wasn't an excuse, but it was an explanation."
Clara turned her head slowly, looking at Maya with tired, skeptical eyes. "Understanding why you lied doesn't change the fact that you looked me in the eye every single day for three years and lied to my face, Maya. Trust isn't a puzzle you can just put back together because you found the missing piece. It's shattered glass. You can glue it, but you're always going to cut yourself on the edges."
