I thought about the last supper.
“Go clean the bathroom.”
I didn’t cry that time.
I simply asked the lawyer to help me organize my new life.
I bought a small, single-story house with a garden where I could sit in the mornings and a bedroom with enough space to receive visitors.
I also hired an independent financial advisor to organize my money, set aside the appropriate taxes, and plan my long-term expenses.
He didn’t want a mansion.
I wanted peace and quiet.
For the first time in many years, I bought a new mattress without comparing its price to five others.
I bought an armchair by the window.
And I filled the kitchen with foods that I liked, not just things that other people wanted to eat.
Then, one afternoon, the phone rang.
It was Michael.
Disputed.
—Mom? Finally!
Her voice sounded irritated.
—Where the hell are you? We’ve
