After four long years of silence, I stood at my front door, heart pounding in my chest. There he was—my son, Brian—standing in the driveway, but this time not with an apology or a tearful reconciliation. No, this time he had a lawyer with him, and the look on his face was anything but familiar.
“Mom,” Brian said in a cold, flat tone. “You need to leave this house. By tomorrow, or we’ll go to court.”
My brain struggled to catch up with his words. “Leave… leave my house?” I asked, barely able to speak. This was the house I had shared with his father, the place I had carefully taken care of after his passing. It had been my refuge, the only place I felt close to him anymore. I stared at the lawyer, my stomach turning in disbelief.
“Yes,” Brian said, the words dropping like stones into the silence. “The house belongs to me now.”
My heart sank, but there was something more. I glanced at the lawyer, feeling a tug at my memory. He looked at me, and I caught a quick, knowing wink. It was so subtle, but it was there. And then I remembered.
“James?” I asked, my voice shaking.
He smiled softly, and nodded. “It’s been a long time, Mary.”
James. My high school sweetheart. The one who’d left town, who had disappeared out of my life, only to return now—standing beside my son, no less. But there was something different in his eyes. Something that told me he wasn’t entirely on Brian’s side.
Brian turned to walk away, clearly annoyed. “I don’t have time for this. Make it quick,” he grumbled, heading back to his car.
As soon as he was gone, James stepped closer. “I can’t believe how he’s treating you,” he whispered, his voice full of concern. “But don’t worry. We can stop this. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”
“James, how did it come to this? My son, wanting to take my house?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt like the ground was crumbling beneath me.
James sighed deeply. “I know this is hard. But trust me, he’s in way over his head. We’ll deal with this tomorrow. I’ll make sure he understands what he’s really facing.”
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of freshly ground coffee. James had brought it over, a small gesture that reminded me of the past. We sat in the kitchen, reminiscing about the old days, waiting for the right moment to confront Brian.
Finally, James dialed Brian’s number. I heard the familiar, arrogant tone of my son on the other end. “What now?” he snapped.
“We need to talk,” James said calmly. “You’re not as safe as you think you are in this situation. Let me explain where you stand.”
Brian scoffed. “I know exactly where I stand.”
“No, you don’t,” James said firmly. “You’ve tried to take your mother’s house, but what you did after your father’s death—taking his things and selling them without permission—that’s theft. You’re in serious trouble, Brian.”
There was a long silence on the line. Brian’s voice cracked slightly when he spoke again. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious,” James said. “If you go through with this lawsuit, we’ll make sure everything comes to light. You could end up in a lot more trouble than just losing the case.”
I heard Brian’s breath catch. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding smaller than I’d ever heard him before.
“Drop the lawsuit,” James replied. “Walk away while you still can. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
I held my breath as the silence stretched between them. Finally, I heard Brian’s defeated voice. “Fine. I’ll drop it.”
James hung up, and a wave of relief flooded over me. He looked at me, his easy smile returning. “Sometimes, all it takes is the truth.”
I laughed softly, the tension finally breaking. “You’re something else, James.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he said with a wink, reaching for his coffee cup.
In the end, Brian wasn’t stopped by anger or revenge. It was the truth that did the job. Karma had worked its magic, and I realized that sometimes all it takes is patience—and an old friend—to set things right.
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