Chapter 3

Graham didn’t answer. He only said, “You’re angry right now. We’ll talk when I get back.”

“You have forty-eight hours.”

I told him exactly what I expected. He would end the trip and come home alone. Then he would tell Celeste and Leah that we had never mutually agreed to separate.

If he was still at the cape in forty-eight hours, I would treat his hesitation as a decision.

“Mara, you can’t handle a marriage with ultimatums.”

“You told people we’d been separated for six months. I’m asking you to correct that lie.”

He started talking about Leah. She had just been suspended and was emotionally unstable. Her parents needed to present a united front.

Then he brought up Walter’s retirement lunch. His father had worked for decades to reach this day, and Graham couldn’t let the family “blow up” right before the celebration.

“Give me two weeks,” he said. “After the lunch, I’ll come home, and the three of us can sit down and talk.”

The three of us.

On our twelfth anniversary, my husband wanted me to wait while he and his ex-wife decided what to do with my marriage.

“Not two weeks,” I said. “Forty-eight hours.”

“Do you really have to force me to choose right now?”

“I didn’t force you to go to the cape.”

I ended the call and sent him a written summary of my terms.

I wasn’t giving him another chance to turn my words into a different story.

It was 9:06 p.m.

His deadline was 9:06 on Monday night.

Then I messaged June.

You mentioned a short-term rental near the control center. Is it still available?

She didn’t ask questions. She sent me the landlord’s number and one warning.

Three-month minimum. Furnished. Not cheap.

The deposit and first month’s rent would consume most of what I had managed to save over the past six months. The apartment was forty minutes from home. It wouldn’t have the bed, kitchen, or neighbors I had known for twelve years.

I saved the number but didn’t call yet.

Then I opened my work email.

My supervisor had asked me three times to join a twelve-week night training rotation.

The first two offers had conflicted with family trips. The third had overlapped with preparations for Walter’s retirement lunch.

Each time, I had replied, Maybe next time.

This time, I wrote, If the position is still available, I accept.

After I sent it, I watched the clock on my screen.

Night shifts would disrupt my sleep and add time to my commute.

For once, those were my own problems to manage.

The next morning, my phone rang.

The caller ID showed the Cape Alder Inn.

“Mrs. Holt?” the receptionist said. “We’re calling to confirm that Mr. Holt and his wife will be extending their stay for another night. Should we charge the payment method on the original reservation?”

I checked the time.

Thirty-five hours remained before the deadline.

“Please remove my contact information from the reservation.”

“But we still need payment authorization—”

“Call Graham.”

I ended the call.

He hadn’t ended the trip.

He had extended it.