The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 36

“Then answer me, why did you pick this place?”

Petty stepped forward, her shoes pressing down on the concrete where her tiny footprints were still visible—a memory from her first birthday, when her parents had held her steady so she could leave her mark. This was her home.

She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to cry. “You know this is where I belong.”

Laura could stay here, sure, but not like this. Not because Franco bought the place for her. That hurt even more than if he’d just come at her with a knife.

Laura pulled out a handkerchief, perfectly folded, and held it out. “Wipe your tears, Petty. It’s freezing.”

Petty didn’t move. She didn’t even look at the handkerchief.

“Petty, let it go. This isn’t your home anymore. The moment your dad sold it, it stopped being yours. Anyone else could live here, so why not me?”

Those words felt like a knife twisting deeper. She’d heard them before, and they still cut just as much.

Laura’s smile was sharp, almost cruel. “You said it yourself—since my legs don’t work, I can’t marry Franco. If I can’t have him, why should you? You understood that before, so why are you taking it out on me now?”

“So you’re finally done pretending?” Petty slapped the handkerchief out of Laura’s hand, letting it fall to the ground.

A bodyguard rushed to block her. “You need to leave, now.”

“Get out of my way.” Petty’s voice was icy, her whole body radiating defiance.

The bodyguard’s expression turned strict. “Franco said anyone trespassing at The Glades gets thrown out. We’re being nice because you’re Laura’s friend, but if you keep this up, we won’t hold back.”

As soon as he finished, more bodyguards appeared, closing in and surrounding Petty. Some of the faces were familiar—Franco’s men.

Susan shook her head. “I think he’s still away on a business trip.”

Petty paused. So he hadn’t come back.

She hurried upstairs, went straight to Franco’s study, and opened his desk drawer. Without hesitating, she grabbed the divorce papers, tore them to pieces, and threw them in the trash.

Franco wanted a divorce? Fine.

She hadn’t wanted anything before.

But now, she wanted that house.