Chương 7
I laughed.
There was no humor left in it now.
“You have got to retire that sentence.”
“I didn’t tell her details.”
“Details.”
“I just said I needed to understand what separation would look like.”
The word separation entered the room and took up space.
I gripped the back of a dining chair.
“What did the attorney tell you?”
“Margot.”
“What did the attorney tell you?”
Caleb lowered his voice.
“General things.”
“About custody?”
His face shifted.
That was enough.
I moved before I had decided to.
Not toward him.
Away.
I walked to the other side of the kitchen and stood beside the window over the sink.
“You talked about custody of Lucy.”
“It was one consultation.”
“You talked about taking my daughter away from me.”
“No.”
He crossed the room.
“I never said that.”
I turned.
“Then what did you say?”
“I asked what shared custody usually looks like.”
My whole body went cold.
Shared custody.
A phrase so ordinary that thousands of people probably said it every day.
To me it sounded like someone measuring my child into portions.
“Did you ask about the house?”
“Yes.”
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“My income?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How much I earn?”
“Yes.”
“How much childcare I do?”
“I told him you handle most of it.”
The fact that he had been honest with a divorce attorney about my labor after refusing to see it in our marriage was almost impressive.
I nodded slowly.
“What was the five thousand dollars for?”
“The consultation and a retainer in case I decided to move forward.”
“You retained him.”
“I didn’t sign anything beyond the initial agreement.”
“That is what a retainer is.”
“I know.”
“Then stop making it sound like you wandered into a seminar.”
He flinched.
I looked at the clock.
Nine fifty-eight.
I had payroll due for one client by noon.
The absurdity made me dizzy.
“I have to work.”
Caleb stared at me.
“What?”
“I have payroll to process.”
“Margot, we can’t stop here.”
“I can.”
“You just found out I talked to a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to do payroll?”
“Yes.”
He looked almost offended by my functionality.
I understood why.
He wanted the confrontation to keep going until he could say enough things to make himself feel less terrible.
I picked up my laptop.
“I’m going to Anna’s.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be here.”
“Can we at least talk before Lucy gets home?”
“I don’t know.”
His frustration returned.
“You keep saying that.”
“Get used to it.”
I grabbed my purse.
“Where are you going after this?”
“Work.”
“Are you seeing Rebecca today?”
“No.”
“Were you supposed to?”
He paused.
“No.”
I stared.
“That pause was a lie.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then why did you have to think?”
“Because I’m trying not to say the wrong thing.”
“You’re several months late.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
I hated myself for enjoying that one too.
At the front door, he called my name.
I stopped without turning around.
“I never wanted to take Lucy from you.”
I looked back.
He stood in the middle of the living room with his sleeves rolled and his tie loosened, looking more like the man I married than he had in months.
That made everything worse.
“You were planning what our daughter’s life would look like after you left.”
His face folded slightly.
“I didn’t know if I was leaving.”
“But you wanted to know the price first.”
He said nothing.
I left.
Anna lived twelve minutes away in a brick ranch house with a basketball hoop nobody used because her sons had both decided basketball was boring in the same year.
She opened the door before I reached the porch.
Her hair was wet, and she wore one gold hoop earring but not the other.
“I was in the middle of getting dressed.”
“I can see that.”
She pulled me inside.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
Her kitchen smelled like toast and the vanilla candle she burned year-round despite claiming candles gave her headaches.
I set my laptop on the table.
“I need Wi-Fi.”
“You need bourbon.”
“It is ten fifteen in the morning.”
“I didn’t say now.”
That got a small smile out of me.
Anna pointed at the coffee maker.
“Fresh pot.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“Water?”
“Yes.”
She filled a glass and slid it toward me.
I opened my laptop.
“What are you doing?”
“Payroll.”
“You weren’t joking.”
“No.”
“Margot.”
“If I miss the processing window, fourteen people get paid late.”
Anna stared at me for a moment.
Then she sat down opposite me.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I reserve the right to judge this later.”
“Fair.”
For twenty minutes, I entered hours, checked overtime, and matched totals.
The work steadied my breathing.
Names.
Numbers.
Dates.
Things that became true when properly documented.
Anna stayed mostly quiet.
She ate half a piece of toast, forgot about the other half, then got up to find her missing earring.
“You know where it was?”
I kept typing.
“Where?”
“In my bra.”
I looked up.
“How?”
“No idea.”
“That feels medically concerning.”
“Thank you for your compassion.”
She put the earring in.
For almost thirty seconds, we were sisters discussing nothing.
Then my phone buzzed.
Caleb.
I ignored it.
A second message followed.
Please tell me where you are.
Anna read my face.
“He texting?”
“Yes.”
“What does he want?”
“To know where I am.”
“Do not tell him.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“You’re allowed to have three hours he can’t account for.”
I looked at her.
“You sound angrier than I am.”
“I have loved you longer.”
The sentence hit me unexpectedly.
I looked back at the screen.
Anna immediately regretted saying something sincere.
“Don’t make that weird.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were about to.”
“I was doing payroll.”
“Good.”
At eleven thirty-seven, I submitted it.
The confirmation screen appeared.
Fourteen people would be paid on Friday.
Civilization continued.
I closed the laptop.
May you like
Anna leaned forward.
“Now tell me everything.”
