The Break-up Break-in

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
All he wanted to do was break in to his empty ex-fiance's house to get back his great grandmother's ring, but he had company after all.

Submitted: February 24, 2014

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Submitted: February 24, 2014



I was so pissed I could have punched my fist through the glass window and not have felt a thing. Instead I stood there on the concrete porch of her little brick house holding the metal key Sammie forgot I had.

I was such an idiot. I didn’t suspect a thing. Well, I did notice some changes.

She started nagging me about everything. But when I asked her about it, she told me it was just too hard to focus on graduation and planning our wedding at the same time.

So I started taking over all the responsibilities to make her relax. I knew how she got stressed.

But when I was planning the wedding without her, we stopped spending as much time together. I decided to do something for her to change this.

On Tuesdays, both of her roommates had night classes and I was off work. Usually Sammie and I would have date nights. With the wedding date getting closer and closer, we hadn’t been on an actual date in a while. So I decided to plan a surprise.

I knew she would be annoyed with me if I took her out to dinner on such short notice. She always said, “It takes more than thirty minutes for this,” as she circled her face with her pointer finger. So instead I swung by the store to get groceries and a bouquet of yellow roses—her favorite flower.

I drove by and saw her silver Lexus parked in her driveway as it normally was. I parked diagonally next to her car like she always insisted. I walked up to the door with the paper bag of groceries in my left hand, and the yellow roses in my right. I switched the roses into my left hand briefly to open the glass door so I could knock on the white door behind it.

“One second!” Sammie said pleasantly as her footsteps shuffled quickly to the door.

In no time, her bright blue eyes and perfect smile would greet me. I didn’t think it was possible at the time, but she was even more beautiful to me today than the first time I saw her, when she was still just the blonde-haired girl from my Government class I was too scared to approach.

I expected her to look excited when she saw me, but instead she looked excited until she saw me. Her face became suddenly humorless, the way it did when she realized she had forgotten an assignment deadline.

Yet there I stood, smiling like an idiot with roses and a paper bag. The partly cracked open door was inviting me to leave the house instead of inviting me in.

“What’s up?” a man’s voice said from the inside over the voices on the television set.

“Who the hell is that?” I said and pushed the door open to see a man with his arm resting across the couch where her body had been snuggled up against him.

I had sat comfortably in that exact same spot for three years now. I had helped Sammie move the light gray couch into the house. Had helped her stack the light yellow and purple pillows onto it. I had even bought the painting of a yellow rose that was hanging above the television set that she had fallen so madly in love at the art fair. I had always felt so at home here, but the room immediately lost that feeling now that he was in it.

The man flicked his head to get the dirty blonde hair out of his eyes and looked smugly at me over his right shoulder like I was the one who didn’t belong in my fiancé’s house.

“Tyler, wait…” she said.

For a woman who faked being in love with me with such ease, she certainly could not feign sympathy.

In an instant, everything I had once found so beautiful about Sammie transformed into an irritating ugliness. Like the way she tilted her chin down and looked up at me with her big, blue eyes. Or the way she would twirl her long, blonde hair while batting her eyelashes. And the way she would fall back into me and rest her head on my shoulder, as she laughed too hard at an OK joke I told.

And what had been her purpose of winning me over with her supposed innocence? With her now apparent manipulation? It was all just so she could gain a little more male attention.

My fingers became weak and the eggs cracked when they hit the wooden floor.

As I stormed out of the house, I spotted the shiny red Hummer I assumed was his parked across the street.

Overcompensating douche bag, I thought.


But there was no red Hummer across the street tonight. There were no cars in her driveway at all.

I didn’t expect to be here. It wasn’t premeditated. I had texted and called multiple times throughout the week with no response. I insisted with several text messages and voicemails for her to give me back my great grandmother’s engagement ring. She put me in the position of being that psycho ex. But my mom was especially adamant I get the ring back.

That ring had extreme sentimental value to my mom. Her grandmother had raised my mom when her mother had passed away when she was only eight years old. My mom had always told me since I was her only child, whoever I married could have the ring. And now that ring was gone.

Since Sammie refused to communicate with me by phone, I was determined to take matters into my own hands. It was 11:30 on a Saturday night, but she would be awake. I drove by her house hoping I didn’t have to be tortured by seeing the shiny red Hummer or another unfamiliar car. I definitely wouldn’t put it past her.

But as I drove by, there were no cars in the driveway at all.

Damnit, I thought.

She went home some weekends because her parents’ house was only a twenty-minute drive away. Her roommates went home a lot, too. They always left the porch light on, so that didn’t trick me.

Knowing her, she left the engagement ring here. That way she could go bitch to her parents with her bare ring finger about how I had done something horrible to her. She always did that passive, “holier than thou” act, and somehow I had been blind to it for three years of dating. It took catching her in the biggest lie of all for all her faults to come floating to the surface where I could finally see them.

She would lie like she had evidently been doing all along to me and convince them I was the reason the engagement was broken off. She was so full of it she had probably convinced herself I was the reason for the failed relationship at this point.

I needed her to give me that damn ring. I parked where the red Hummer had been just a few nights before, squeezed my leather steering wheel, and frustrated, repeatedly banged the back of my head against the head rest.

Then, letting out a forceful sigh, I released my hands from the wheel and let them slip into my coat pockets. And that’s when I felt it: the metal key to her house.

The next thing I knew I was shivering in the cold with her key in the silver doorknob.

It would be so easy, so why was I just standing there?

It wouldn’t take long at all. I just wanted to get my great grandmother’s ring back. And once I got that ring, I could work on completely removing Sammie from my life.

And with that justification, I cleansed myself of my own accusations of insanity, and felt the key turn in my hand.

I turned the knob to the right and opened the door, expecting to enter pitch darkness. Instead, the living room was peacefully illuminated by the purple lampshade in the corner of the room.

Must have forgotten to turn that off.

I shut the door behind me.

“Sammie? Kate?” I heard a panicked voice ask from a back room.

Crap, I thought.

I locked the door from the inside the way it had been before and quickly slid my shoes against the floor to keep the old wooden planks from creaking. Sammie’s room was thankfully the first bedroom to the left so I quickly opened it and slid into the darkness.

As I closed the door to her room as quietly as I could, a door at the other side of the house creaked open. Now, unable to see a thing, I felt my way through the darkness to Sammie’s closet door. I opened the left side of the double doors, stepped inside, and tried to steady my fidgety hand so I could softly close the door. It quietly clicked shut into the position it had been in before.  

I tried to find a long dress or coat to hide behind because at the moment I was behind what seemed to be a tank top.

 I stepped over her billions of shoes as I slid my back against the wall to get to the opposite side of the closet.

When I stepped down on a spiked heel, it took biting down on my lip and the fear of being caught to not scream out profanities.

And I thought Legos were a bitch.

“Hello?” the familiar voice pleaded again.

Sammie’s roommate Emmy moved around in the room that was right behind my head.

Emmy was sweet and quiet, about five feet tall, and had hazel eyes, light brown hair, and freckles. Sammie told me Emmy despised how she and her roommate Kate always went home on the weekends. It made Emmy especially nervous that there was no alarm system.

Apparently before she went to bed at night she always made sure the doors were locked, got in bed, convinced herself the doors were unlocked, and went back to check the locks once more.

I felt like such an asshole. If she was that nervous with her two roommates there, I could only imagine what she felt like at this moment.

And that’s when I started thinking, What the hell was I doing hiding from a terrified girl?

I should have just calmly answered her when she was at the first stages of panic. She knew me. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But if she heard a deep voice coming from Sammie’s closet now, it would scare the hell out of her. And, additionally, she would probably stab me with the pocketknife I was certain she was carrying around the house like a crazy person.

But by the time I could process my thoughts, I was already trapped in the closet. It was too late to back out of whatever plans I was executing now. I decided it was much better to hide without her knowing than to scare her.

I had made my way to the other side of the closet by this point, and surely enough, there were long dresses, skirts, and coats to hide behind.

Any other day I would gripe about how unnecessary it was for Sammie to have this many clothes, but thank God she did right now.

I piled her shoes over my feet in case Emmy came in and opened the closet.

The coat that was pressed against my face smelled like Sammie. The smell of the lavender perfume I once loved now made me feel nauseous.

The door cracked open, and Emmy was crawling on her knees to look under the bed like a kid afraid to check for monsters. I wanted to tease her for her paranoia, but then I remembered I was hiding in the closet.

She then quietly walked over to the closet and slowly opened both doors. I held my breath as I heard the metal hangers scraping back and forth over the metal pole, before she shut the closet door.

Emmy left the room and shut the door behind her.

I just need to get the ring and then get the hell out of here.

As I made my way out of the closet, trying to avoid the place where I stepped on the high heel moments before, Emmy was faintly talking in the living room.

“Hi, Mom. I’m sorry to call so late. I know you’re sleeping, but I just needed to talk to somebody. I’m sure I just heard a noise outside or something, but I swore I heard the door open and… Mom? Hi… Sorry I woke you.”

I slowly shut the closet door and moved my hands against the wall, working my way toward Sammie’s desk, where her jewelry chest sat.

“Yes, the doors are both locked…and I know… I know… I probably am just more paranoid since my car is in the shop… Yeah…I probably just feel more helpless since I’ve convinced myself there would be no way to escape if someone did break in.”

So that’s why there were no cars in the driveway.

“You’re right… Thanks for talking to me, and sorry again for waking you… Love you, too… Night.” Emmy hung up the phone.

When I felt the jewelry chest on top of the desk, I took my phone out of my pocket. I meticulously shone the light on the box, so there would be no chance Emmy could see a glare coming through the bottom of the bedroom door.

The wooden jewelry chest had five miniature drawers on the left and a tall glass door on the right with a white flower design on it. There were necklaces behind the glass door, so the ring had to be in one of the smaller drawers. I was frustrated I had to open and shut each tiny drawer with precision so I wouldn’t make noise.

The very bottom drawer had burgundy velvety rows, which Sammie’s multitude of rings sat between.

But the only one I was looking for wasn’t there.

I hopelessly shone the light on the rest of the desk just to make sure. And there, sitting on top of a Vogue magazine and some snail mail Sammie hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet, was my great grandmother’s ring. Clearly she was taking just as good care of the ring as she had our relationship.

I reached over to grab it and immediately put the ring in the chest pocket of my coat. 

I put the phone back in my back pocket just to hear a loud voice say, “Sorry. I’m not sure what you said.”

Damnit, Siri.

I took a step forward as I took the phone out of my pocket to shut off the noise, and my foot kicked the wheel on her sliding chair and it rolled loudly across the wooden floor.

In a few moments Emmy’s panicked voice said, “Hello. Um… my name is Emmy Little. Someone is in my house…I live on…”

I did not wait to hear the rest before running over to the window on the other side of the room. Thankfully I easily got it unlocked and opened.

I was no longer concerned with moving quietly. I needed to get out of there.

I slid out the window and into the bushes. As I did this, the metal key fell out of my unzipped pocket and into the grass and dirt.

I picked up the key, and held on to it a few seconds before throwing it back inside Sammie’s room.

I ran to my black Tahoe, which I had thankfully parked farther down the street. I put my keys in the ignition and drove away, wanting to look back at the house of the woman I loved, but refusing to let myself.

As I turned onto Main Street, sirens shrilled behind me.

I pulled over, thinking in the back of my mind they would pull up behind me—that I had been caught. But they zoomed past.

The cops were heading to Sammie’s house: a place I knew I would never be visiting again.

© Copyright 2019 Tessa Martha. All rights reserved.

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