Joshua approached her, and Gretchen caught fragments of their argument.
“You told me everything was handled!” Cheyenne snapped.
“I didn’t know she’d hired a legal team,” Joshua said weakly.
“What happens to the apartment now?” Cheyenne demanded.
Gretchen walked past them toward the exit.
Their romance had only worked while she quietly absorbed the fallout. Now, facing frozen accounts and lawyers, it looked like what it always was — a selfish arrangement built on lies.
That night Joshua sent a string of texts.
“We really need to sit down and talk about this,” read the first text.
“This whole situation got completely out of control,” read the second text.
“Please think about what is best for Maxine,” read the final text.
She read the last one twice.
For months he’d used their daughter as a shield — demanding respect for her while draining her college fund, demanding calm while building a separate life behind their backs.
Gretchen powered off her phone without replying.
For the first time in fourteen years, she felt no duty to manage his feelings.
Three days later Joshua moved out, renting a small apartment. Maxine noticed something was deeply wrong.
“Did Dad do something illegal?” she asked one evening on the couch.
