Chapter 4

The workers kept swinging, the crash of it filling the place. The old me would have panicked.

But today I didn't so much as frown.

Steve saw I wasn't reacting, and something sour flickered in his eyes.

He kicked at a board that had been pried loose by his feet and curled his lip.

"All this smashing, and all we've got is a ceiling and some cabinets torn out?"

"No wonder you're not upset. I haven't gone far enough yet."

Then he shouted toward the door.

"Hey! Rip up the living room floor too!"

"And the sliding doors on the balcony, get rid of them. Once they're out, knock the wall back!"

A worker answered, and the sledgehammer came down harder.

Steve turned back to me.

"How about now? Hurts, doesn't it?"

I gave a little smile.

"As long as you're happy."

His face darkened, and he yelled at the workers again.

"The walk-in closet in the bedroom, smash that too!"

"Every appliance, haul them all out and dump them."

Then he lifted his chin and added,

"Once I'm married, I'll buy everything new."

That set the whole crowd off again.

"Wow! Steve doesn't do anything halfway!"

"Tearing it down on this kind of scale, and then a full renovation on top? That's a wedding home to beat all wedding homes!"

The future mother-in-law smiled so wide the wrinkles smoothed out of her face.

"You get things done, no dragging your feet. A man needs that kind of nerve."

Steve shot me a glance, smug all over.

"Aria, back when I'd bump or scratch one of these appliances, weren't you always making a fuss?"

"Well, today I'm tearing them all out and throwing them away. What are you going to do about it?"

I smiled and said nothing.

It was the worker beside us who looked uneasy. He came over and asked,

"Boss, you really want all of this torn out? Plenty of it's still pretty new."

Steve nodded.

"Tear it out."

"I say what gets torn out, and that's what gets torn out."

The worker didn't ask again. He turned and went back to it.

Steve sat down, thoroughly pleased with himself, tossing out an order every now and then.

In less than a morning, my fully finished home was unrecognizable.

The wall plaster was gone, the cabinets down, the kitchen bare, the doors and windows pulled out.

Once everything that could be torn out was torn out and everything that could be thrown away was thrown away, Steve was finally satisfied.

He put his arm around his girlfriend and headed for the door.

"Let's go, let's go. My treat for lunch. We'll talk over the renovation plans after we eat."

Passing me, he taunted under his breath.

"Sis, from now on, don't keep such careful accounts with me over what happens in this family."

"Or I've got plenty of ways to make you miserable."

Just then two men in work uniforms blocked the doorway.

The one in front asked loudly,

"Which of you is Ms. Dickerson?"

"Our company has already bought this property outright in cash. The handover paperwork is all done."

"By the rules, the fixtures inside are supposed to be transferred as they are. We're here to do the handover inspection."

He leaned in as he spoke, and froze at the floor covered in broken brick and shattered wood.

"What happened here?"

"Who did this?"