As Racheal was dealing with everything in the hospital, Victor’s house was figuratively on fire.
Victor leaned against the window, staring out at the meticulously landscaped garden, his face set in a hardened expression. He had made up his mind.
The house, with its three excessive living rooms and an enormous master bedroom, had become a burden.
“We need to sell this house,” Victor said abruptly, breaking the strained silence that had settled between them.
His voice was firm, but beneath it, there was a simmering anger, a frustration that had been building for months, maybe years. “It’s too much. We don’t need this space anymore.”
Evelyn, perched on the edge of the velvet sofa painting her toenails, snapped her head toward him, her eyes blazing with an intensity that matched the fi
