Rachel stood up abruptly. “I don’t have to sit through any of this.”
“No,” I agreed. “You really don’t.”
She gathered her purse with fingers that were, I noticed, shaking slightly now.
Tyler didn’t stand up with her. He stayed exactly where he was in his chair, staring down at the folder, at a list of names that weren’t his own.
“Tyler,” Rachel snapped from the doorway. “Are you coming or not?”
He didn’t look up at her.
And in that small, terrible stretch of silence, I understood that the entire morning had already quietly shifted underneath all of us. The woman who had arrived at my door to take my home was, without quite realizing it yet, the one now being left behind.
I set the documents down flat on the table between us and folded my hands calmly on top of them. “The house is in my name alone. Margaret will be freezing our joint accounts this afternoon. Divorce papers will be filed by Friday morning.”
