Outside, the air was cool and still. The sun was setting, casting everything in gold. I stood by my car for a long moment, thinking about all the times I had forgiven her, all the times I let things go to keep us from breaking apart.
Not this time.
If she wanted me gone, I would give her exactly that.
As I drove away, the same hollow ache settled in my chest—the one I used to feel when I pretended everything was fine just to hold our family together.
Later that night, sitting alone at my dining table, still in my work clothes, I noticed a new email on my laptop.
It was from my attorney.
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