Jennifer offered to come over, but Laura wanted to be alone to process. She spent the day cleaning her condo, scrubbing away any trace of Mike. By evening, she felt like herself again.
The “mama’s boy” and his mother had lost. Their plan to move into a luxury condo had failed miserably. On Monday, Laura went to see a lawyer just to be sure she was legally protected.
The lawyer confirmed that since the keys were returned and no one had entered the property, there wasn’t much of a criminal case, but he advised her to document everything. Laura then went to the local police station to file a formal report of the theft and harassment.
The officer took the report, though he admitted it was mostly for the paper trail. Laura didn’t care; she wanted it on the record. She went back to work, throwing herself into her projects to drown out the lingering bitterness.
Her colleagues asked about the wedding, and she simply told them it was “cancelled.” No drama, no details. She spent her evenings watching movies and ordering takeout, enjoying the quiet.
Slowly, her peace of mind returned. She realized she had dodged a bullet. A week later, her mother called from Iowa. Laura told her the truth, and her mother was livid, calling Mike a “snake” and offering to fly out.
Laura declined, saying she was fine. But the drama wasn’t quite over. On Friday evening, Mike was waiting for her outside her building. He looked terrible—unshaven and desperate.
He claimed he had “officially moved out” of his mother’s life and rented a new place. He begged for a “reset,” but Laura saw right through it. She knew he was just looking for a way back in.
She told him that a thief and a liar didn’t get “resets.” She walked past him and went inside. From her window, she watched him walk back to his car. That was the last time she saw him.
The next few weeks were quiet. She spent time with Jennifer, went to the gym, and focused on her career. She realized that being “alone” was a thousand times better than being with the wrong person.
She had her health, her career, and her home. The “biological clock” didn’t feel so loud anymore. She was happy. But then, she got a call from her building’s security desk.
The guard told her a “stout older woman” had been hanging around the lobby, trying to get to Laura’s floor. Eleanor was stalking her. Laura told the guard to call the police if she showed up again.
She went to see her lawyer again. This time, they filed for a formal restraining order. It took some time and a few more documented incidents of Eleanor showing up at her office, but eventually, a judge signed it.
The order prohibited Eleanor or Mike from coming within 500 feet of Laura or her home. It was the final nail in the coffin. Laura finally felt like she could breathe again.
She heard through the grapevine that Mike’s dealership had let him go after he had a meltdown in front of a client. He was reportedly back living with Eleanor in her cramped apartment, probably listening to her complain about the “missed opportunity.”
