Chapter 4
The evening before the opening, the Ashbourne Foundation was almost empty.
The last installation crew had gone home. Only the low security lights remained, throwing pale rectangles across the gallery floor.
I stood before Dawn with the final condition report in my hands.
The hairline fractures were stable. Humidity had held at forty-two percent for six hours. Every signature required for the opening was in place.
My assistant appeared at the end of the gallery carrying a courier envelope.
"This arrived from the foundation's legal office."
Inside was the original copy of my appointment agreement.
Director of Conservation and Curatorial Projects.
Independent curatorial authority. Final conservation approval. Professional credit under my own name.
My signature was already on the electronic version. The paper copy made the decision feel heavier.
I signed again.
Eira Vale.
My phone vibrated.
The family-law attorney I had contacted had replied with an appointment confirmation and a preliminary checklist.
Passport. Bank statements. Property records. Marriage certificate. Any prenuptial or postnuptial agreement. A list of personal property I would need to remove from the marital home.
At the bottom, she had added:
[A consultation does not commit you to filing. It gives you the information required to make an informed decision.]
I folded the checklist and placed it behind the appointment agreement.
For the first time, the future was not an empty space beyond Alistair.
It had documents.
Dates.
Doors I could open myself.
When I arrived home, the living room was quiet.
Seraphine had gone upstairs. Alistair stood at the bar pouring mineral water.
"Rehearsal run late?"
"I was completing the final condition reports."
He glanced at the folder in my hand.
"More exhibition paperwork?"
"Something like that."
He did not ask to see it.
Seven years ago, that trust had felt intimate.
Now it felt like certainty - the certainty that nothing I did outside our marriage could alter the terms inside it.
"Tomorrow," I said, "the address begins at seven thirty."
"I know."
"You need to be in your seat by seven twenty."
He gave me a tired smile.
"Eira, I signed the attendance form. I told you I would be there."
"Even if Seraphine calls?"
His expression tightened.
"Nothing is going to happen."
"That wasn't my question."
For a moment, the only sound was water running over ice.
Then he held my gaze.
"I will stay."
"Until I finish speaking?"
"Until you finish speaking."
I nodded.
He crossed the room and touched my arm.
"After the exhibition, we'll get back to normal. Seraphine will have her own apartment, you'll have more time, and this will stop feeling so complicated."
Normal.
The word landed between us like a promise made to the wrong version of me.
"Good night, Alistair."
I went upstairs before he could answer.
In the study, I opened the bottom drawer and placed my passport, the appointment agreement, and the attorney's checklist inside a plain black folder.
I added Alistair's signed attendance form last.
Tomorrow night, he would make his choice.
This time, I would be ready to make mine.