Alexis stood there, stunned, as her belongings were reduced to garbage bags on the floor. “You should have tried harder,” the woman added, almost kindly. “Men have needs. It’s not all about money.” Then she kept packing.
By the time Alexis left the house, she had signed everything Vincent put in front of her. Resignation papers. Agreements. Forms she barely read. She didn’t fight. She took her son’s hand, loaded the bags into her car, and drove to her grandmother’s house with nowhere else to go.