P.S. — Check the neighborhood Facebook group.
We took one final photo. Dylan is pointing at the museum display and me, giving a thumbs-up with my bandaged hand. He posted it to the Facebook group:
"Exhibit closing. Artists moving out. Thank you for your support."
We checked into a cheap motel across town.
Dylan's phone started blowing up immediately.
Twenty-three missed calls from his mom. Seventeen from his dad.
Texts flooding in.
Twenty-three missed calls from his mom.
"CALL US RIGHT NOW."
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
"THIS IS DISRESPECTFUL."
Dylan silenced the notifications.
We ordered pizza and sat on the motel bed, laughing together for the first time in weeks. Max sprawled on the carpet, happily gnawing his beef stick like it was the best day of his life.
We ordered pizza and sat on the motel bed.
"I can't believe you did all that."
"I can't believe I didn't do it sooner," Dylan replied. "No one treats my wife like that. Ever."
He gently kissed my bandaged hands.
My phone buzzed.
It was our contractor. "Good news! Repairs finished early. You can move back in three days."
"I can't believe you did all that."
I showed Dylan the text. He pulled me close. "We're going home, Amber. Our home."
***
Three days later, moving trucks sat outside our renovated house. It looked beautiful. Better than before.
As we unpacked, Dylan's phone rang. His mother again.
He declined the call.
"Should you talk to them, eventually?" I asked.
As we unpacked, Dylan's phone rang.
"Eventually," he said. "When they apologize. To you. Not me. YOU."
I looked around our home. At our fresh start.
The safety pins? They're probably still finding them.
Good. Every single one should remind them that cruelty has consequences.
And gratitude? It goes both ways.
Every single one should remind them that cruelty has consequences.
If this happened to you, what would you do? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the Facebook comments.
