The bed sheets in the bedroom had been replaced with a lily-themed set that Sydney apparently liked. The sofa cushions, the carpet, the bedside lamp, the trash bin, the shoe cabinet and the little footstool, everything within sight was unrecognizable to Ivana.
She couldn't even find her slippers. In just one month, it felt as though her five years with Ernest had been wiped clean.
Thank goodness it was summer. Ivana walked barefoot, wobbling slightly on the uneven floor. Her foot no longer hurt much, but her gait was still awkward as she was unused to walking like this.
In the storage room, she found her suitcase. She also dug through the closet, now full of Sydney's clothes, to the farthest corner where she unearthed her own crumpled clothes.
The clothes she'd still wear, she folded neatly. Anything Ernest had bought, she threw away.
For a moment, Ivana wanted to toss out the closet itself, too, since she was the one who'd bought it.
She glanced down at her foot, forget it. It had been used for years anyway, she could just treat it as a donation to the junk hauler.