Two nights later Mark hosted another loud party, his friends filling the house again. Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. When Mark opened it, he found two officers and David standing there.
Calmly, David explained they had received a report that a minor had been illegally forced out of his legal residence and they needed to ask some questions. Mark’s confidence vanished instantly as his friends began slipping quietly out the door. I stepped forward and added, as politely as I could, that I had already spoken with a lawyer as well.
Within a week Mark was packing his belongings and leaving the house—the one I had owned long before we ever married. Jake and I stood on the porch watching the moving truck pull away. He looked up at me nervously and asked if everything was going to be okay.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and told him the truth: it already was. For the first time in weeks, he smiled, knowing he was finally back where he belonged—home.
