Everyone Has a Key Except Me

Chapter 4 The Confrontation

Grayson walked in and stopped when he saw me at the kitchen table. His eyes went to the new lock on the door, and then back to me, and I watched his face go through something complex, surprise, confusion, and then a thin layer of anger that he tried to hide.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I changed the lock."

"Why?"

"Because it's my house. Because I don't have a key. Because I'm tired of being the only person who has to ring the doorbell."

He set his bag down and crossed his arms. "I told you, you don't need a key. You're always here."

"That's not true. I travel. I work late. And I don't have access to my own house."

He shook his head. "You're being ridiculous. My family—"

"Your family, exactly. Your family has keys. Your family lets themselves in. Your family goes through my cabinets and my files. Your mother left me a note about an appraisal and then you told me you didn't know anything about it."

His expression flickered. "I don't know anything about it."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"You are." I stood up and faced him, and I felt steady. I felt solid. "I called Barrett & Noble. I know about the photo of the house. I know about the mortgage statement in my file room. I know something is happening, and I know your family is behind it."

He stared at me. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. When he spoke, his voice was different. Harder. "You shouldn't have gone through my things."

My things. He had said my things. "The files are in my house. The drawer is my desk. I can go through whatever I want."

"You had no right."

"I had every right." I held his gaze. "Tell me the truth, Grayson. What is your family planning?"

He looked away. His jaw worked. Then he walked past me into the living room and stood by the window, looking out at the street. "It's not what you think."

"Then explain it."

"It's just... my parents have had some financial issues. Nothing serious. My father made some bad investments. My mother has been trying to figure out how to cover the losses without anyone finding out."

"And my house?"

He turned back toward me, and for a second I saw something like shame in his eyes. Then it was gone. "They thought maybe we could use the equity. Refinance, take some cash out. You know. Help the family."

"Without asking me."

"It was a thought. Just a thought."

"It wasn't a thought. There was a broker. There was an appraisal note. There were papers in my file room. That's not a thought, Grayson. That's a plan."

He crossed his arms again. "Okay. So it's a plan. They wanted to help. They wanted to keep the family together. That doesn't mean they were going to do anything behind your back. They were going to talk to you. I was going to talk to you."

"When?"

"At the right time."

"There is no right time. There is only my house, my name on the deed, and your family trying to get their hands on it without my permission."

He took a step toward me. "You're making this into something it's not."

"Am I? Then tell me why every single person in your family has a key to my house. Tell me why your mother has been in my file room. Tell me why the broker I called hung up on me."

He didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." I picked up my phone and held it up. "I've documented everything. The note. The business card. The photo. The log I made of every time your family came into my house without my permission. I have it all, Grayson. And if you or your family tries anything, I will use it."

His face went pale, then red. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

He stared at me, and I stared back, and for a long moment neither of us moved. Then he laughed, a short, ugly laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "You're not going to do anything. You love me. You love this life. You're not going to throw it away over a misunderstanding."

"This isn't a misunderstanding."

"It is. You're emotional. You're stressed about the wedding. Go lie down. We'll talk about this tomorrow when you're calm."

I didn't move. I didn't back down. "I'm not calm, Grayson. I'm furious. And I'm not going to lie down. I'm going to stay right here, and I'm going to ask you one more time. What is your family planning to do with my house?"

He stared at me. And then he said, in a voice I had never heard before, "Fine. You want to know? My parents are in debt. Not a little debt. A lot. The kind of debt that doesn't go away. And they were going to use the equity in this house to pay it off. It was going to be temporary. They were going to pay it back."

"With what?"

He didn't answer.

"With what, Grayson?"

He turned away and walked to the door. He grabbed his bag and his keys and he paused with his hand on the knob. "You shouldn't have changed the lock."

"I should have changed it months ago."

He left. The door closed behind him, and I stood in the kitchen and listened to his car start and drive away. Then I sat down at the table, and I put my head in my hands, and I took a few slow breaths. I didn't cry. I had cried too much already, in the months when I was pretending everything was fine. Now I was past crying.

I was going to fight.

I texted Priya.

Naomi: He knows I know. He left.

Priya: Are you safe?

Naomi: I'm fine. But it's worse than we thought. His parents are in debt. They were planning to refinance the house without telling me.

Priya: Do you have proof of that?

Naomi: Not yet. But I will.

Priya: Be careful. And call me tomorrow. We need to talk strategy.

I put the phone down and looked around my kitchen. The casserole dish from the night before was still on the counter. Caroline's hand towel was still draped over the oven handle. The wine glasses were still in the sink where Meredith had left them. I had let these people into my life. I had let them into my home. And they had taken one look at what was mine and started figuring out how to take it.

I picked up the casserole dish and the towel and the glasses and I put them all in a cardboard box. Then I walked out to the garage and put the box by the trash cans. The trash truck came on Thursdays. Tomorrow was Thursday. Let them come get their things from the curb.

Back inside, I sat down at the table again and opened my laptop. I had work to do. I had a legal plan to build, a financial audit to run, and a wedding to cancel. I didn't know how any of it would turn out, but I knew one thing for certain. I was not going to let them win.