I worked two jobs to help fulfill my husband’s dream of becoming a doctor — at his graduation, he handed me divorce papers, but just as I was walking away, one of his classmates said, “Before you leave, there’s something you should know.”

“Do you still have contact with Mia?”

“Yes.”

“Ask her if she’d be willing to speak with me directly.

Not about the affair.

About the placement.”

He looked at me carefully.

“You’re not just going to sign the papers and walk away.”

“I gave up six years,” I said.

“I gave up my degree.

I gave up the version of my life I had planned before I loved him.” I started the car.

“I’m not walking away from anything until I understand exactly what was taken from me.”

Daniel stepped back from the car.

“I’ll call Mia tonight,” he said.

I pulled out of the parking space.

In the rearview mirror, the graduation building was still visible, the stone arch, the courtyard, the last few clusters of families.

I didn’t look for Nathan.

I didn’t need to.

My phone buzzed on the seat beside me as I reached the parking lot exit.

A text from an unknown number.