Chapter 4

I remained in my car until the lights in Elena’s apartment came on.

Through the window, I could see Mark moving around inside.

He had promised to come straight back.

My phone remained silent.

I looked down at the ultrasound report and the tiny white socks inside my handbag.

That morning, I had imagined giving them to Mark after our anniversary dinner.

Instead, I placed the socks back in my bag, sent the video to my attorney, and drove home.

The champagne roses were still standing on the entryway table.

I carried them into the living room and placed Elena’s card beside the vase.

Then I opened the documents my attorney had sent that afternoon.

The divorce petition and proposed separation agreement were preliminary, but my decision was not.

I printed them in Mark’s study and signed every page that required my name.

The line beside his remained blank.

Upstairs, I opened our wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase.

I packed my clothes, medication, personal documents, work computer, and the jewelry my mother had given me.

Everything belonging to Mark remained untouched.

His suits stayed in the wardrobe.

His watches remained in their cases.

The complimentary anniversary perfume sat unopened on my dresser.

My phone lit up as I closed the suitcase.

Elena’s daughter is still upset. I may be here for a while. Get some rest. We’ll celebrate properly another night.

Mark had not asked whether I arrived home safely.

He had not even realized I had left the restaurant.

I read the message once and took a screenshot.

Then I blocked his number.

Downstairs, I placed the ultrasound report in the center of the coffee table.

Beside it, I arranged Elena’s card, the receipt for her $12,800 handbag, and three still images from the video.

One showed Mark holding Elena around the waist.

Another showed her kissing him.

In the last image, the boy’s arms were wrapped around Mark’s neck.

The original video had already been saved in two places and sent to my attorney.

I laid the divorce papers beneath the evidence.

Then I removed my wedding ring and placed it over the blank signature line beside Mark’s name.

There was no letter.

Mark had lied about the money my father needed.

He had lied about Elena.

He had left our anniversary dinner and walked into another home where a child called him Dad.

There was nothing left to discuss.

I turned off my location sharing and deleted Mark’s access to my private accounts.

Then I carried my suitcase outside and locked the door behind me.

A taxi stopped at the curb several minutes later.

The driver stepped out and placed my suitcase in the trunk.

“Where to?” he asked.

I looked back at the house one last time.

“The airport,” I said.