Just a little longer. Once Dad leaves, I'll deal with them.

"Edgar, this is the last time!"

A flicker of triumph crossed his eyes.

"Yes, yes, yes. I knew my wife was the best."

Looking at that shameless grin, my stomach turned. But I forced myself to swallow it down and said:

"But I have conditions. My dad stays here tonight."

"And your mother does not bring her card-playing friends to this house!"

Edgar agreed without a second's hesitation.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"You just take Dad out for a nice dinner. By the time you two get back, I guarantee he'll have somewhere to sleep!"

He sounded so sure of himself. I didn't believe a word of it.

On my way out, I could already hear him arguing with his mother.

She was pulling the same old routine, throwing a tantrum and twisting everything around.

Wailing at the top of her lungs: "My own son picks his wife over his mother!"

Edgar, who had seemed so resolute a minute ago, was already softening, his voice dropping to a coaxing murmur.

I glanced back at them, let out a cold laugh, and shut the door.

Fine. This was his last chance.

If he couldn't figure out how to keep his word, he had no one to blame but himself.

What I didn't notice was that every shift in my expression had been watched by my father.

At dinner, as I placed food on his plate, he spoke up out of nowhere.

"Sweetheart, are you getting a divorce?"

The question hit so suddenly that my brain went blank. I had no idea how to answer.

Dad sighed.

"Don't hide things from me, sweetheart. I can see it. You're not happy. But you've always only told me the good news and kept the bad to yourself, because you didn't want me to worry."

I opened my mouth to say something, but he raised his hand to stop me.

"Honestly, I never thought much of Edgar's family. Their situation wasn't great. But I saw how attentive he was to you, and I thought, at least after the wedding there'd be one more person in the world to love my girl."

"But now his heart's shifted. He's not good to my daughter anymore. I can't stand by and let him stay with you."

On that last sentence, he couldn't hold back. His palm came down hard on the table.

Seeing his face flushed red with anger, I felt the sting hit the bridge of my nose all at once.

When Georgette knocked his plate to the floor and called his cooking pig slop, he hadn't gotten angry.

When Edgar pointed a finger in his face and called him a thief, he hadn't gotten angry.

But them wronging me? That, he couldn't take.

He was always like this. I was the one line no one was allowed to cross.

Guilt and grief knotted together in my chest as I reached out and held his hand.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I made you worry again."

He stroked my head the way he used to when I was small, and gently wiped my tears with a napkin.

"You're my daughter. No matter how much I do for you, it's never too much."

Warmth flooded through me. I pulled out my phone right there and called my friend who practiced divorce law.

Once the divorce agreement was finalized, Dad and I headed home.

On the way, I contacted a moving company.

I was done waiting. Not one more second.

At the front door, seven or eight extra pairs of shoes were lined up on the mat.

My heart sank all over again.

Edgar had broken his promise.

Through the gap in the door, a thick wall of cigarette smoke drifted out, so acrid it stung my eyes to tears.

Dread pooled low in my stomach.

I pushed the door open and realized I had still underestimated Georgette's shamelessness.

I'd told her no card-playing friends. So she'd invited her relatives instead.

The living room, which I had left spotless, was covered in cigarette butts.

The flowers on the coffee table were gone. All that remained were shredded petals ground into the surface.

Worse was the couch beside it. Three thousand dollars of genuine leather.

Sunflower seed shells, peanut skins, beer cans, takeout containers piled on top of each other, their juices pooling and mixing together. The stench was unbearable.

For a split second, I thought I'd walked into a landfill.

But what sent the real fury roaring through me were the collectible figurines beside the TV.

All of them had been tossed on the floor.

The kids had snapped them apart, every last piece.

I couldn't hold back any longer. My voice came out sharp enough to cut.

"Stop it! Who said you could touch those?!"

Nobody paid me any attention.

The kids stuck their tongues out at me and scattered.

Their parents shot me a dirty look and went straight to Georgette to complain.

"Auntie, this daughter-in-law of yours has no manners at all. She didn't even greet her elders when she walked in."

"Exactly. Disrespecting her elders is one thing, but picking fights with little kids? You can tell she's from a small town. No class whatsoever."

"Well, obviously. If she hadn't landed a good man like our Edgar, she'd probably never have found a husband at all!"

Georgette's lips were twitching with a smile she could barely suppress, but she put on a show of waving them off.

"Oh, now, don't say that, don't say that. She's pregnant right now, so if anything were to happen..."

"So what if she's pregnant? Which one of us hasn't been pregnant before? She's the only one acting like a princess about it!"

"Right? Does she think carrying one baby makes her royalty?"

As they said this, they ground my figurines under their heels, deliberately crushing them.

Both of those were limited editions. Current market value: twelve thousand dollars.

And intentional destruction of property valued over six thousand met the threshold for criminal charges.

I didn't hesitate. I pulled out my phone to call the police.

But just as I was about to dial 911, Edgar came out of the balcony and pulled me over.

"Fern, come look at the bed I set up for Dad. I made it myself. What do you think?"

For a moment, I didn't register what he meant.

Then I saw it: a four-foot folding cot wedged between the potted plants,

covered with a sheet that looked like it had been dug out of some forgotten closet. It was wrinkled and stiff.

There were even stains on it. Unidentifiable ones.

And Edgar had pulled this out for my father to sleep on.

I was so speechless I didn't know where to begin.

Yet he stood there, beaming with pride.

"I picked the perfect spot, too. Dad can enjoy the night view out here, smell the flowers, and even—"

"If it's so great, your mother can have it."

My tone left zero room for discussion.

"That's settled. Tonight, my dad sleeps in your mother's room. Your mother sleeps out here."

I turned and headed for Georgette's room to move her luggage.

Edgar panicked. The words flew out before he could stop them.

"No way! My mom can't sleep in a place like a doghouse!"

The second those words left his mouth, my hand moved on its own. I slapped him across the face so hard my palm stung.

"A doghouse. So you know it's a doghouse. And you still put my father out here?"

Before he could react, I hurled the divorce papers at him.

"I want a divorce."

"You are going to pack your things right now."

"Take your mother and this whole circus of freaks, and get out of my house!"