Chapter 3

The moment Connor's car disappeared down the street, I walked into my study and called Victoria Hayes. Victoria was a family lawyer who had handled my coworker's divorce last year. "I need to file for divorce," I told her. "Can you have the papers ready tonight? Our townhouse lease ends next month. Our salaries go into separate accounts, and our only shared asset is twenty-two thousand dollars in our house-and-baby savings fund." Eighteen thousand of that money had come from two years of my quarterly bonuses, saved for fertility treatments and a down payment on a home with a yard. "Don't move any money from the joint account yet," Victoria advised. "Leave it untouched so he can't claim you emptied marital funds before filing. I'll have the petition ready by five o'clock." "Thank you. My sister Audrey has a place for me. I'm leaving tomorrow morning at six." After ending the call, I sat down at my desk and opened the Cabo folder on my laptop. When we started planning the trip three months ago, Connor had used his airline miles to book the basic flights. I had paid for everything else. The oceanfront suite, the first-class upgrades, the private airport car, and the anniversary dinners had all been charged to my personal credit card. Because I had purchased travel protection when my work schedule was uncertain, the free cancellation window remained open until four o'clock on Friday afternoon. It was two-fifteen. One by one, I clicked through the reservation pages. I canceled the oceanfront suite. I canceled the cliffside restaurant and the sunset charter. Finally, I opened the airline booking and canceled the first-class seat upgrades, leaving them with basic-economy seats in the last row. Within ten minutes, four refund notices arrived in my inbox. Six thousand two hundred dollars was on its way back to my card. Next, I walked into the dining room and gathered the remaining copies of the anniversary schedule. I fed them through the shredder. Then I took the watch I had bought Connor for our fifth anniversary out of the bedroom closet, drove to the mall, and returned it for a full refund. By four-thirty, I was back home with my silver suitcase open on the bedroom floor. I packed my clothes, my work laptop, my passport, and my prenatal records. From the bottom drawer of my dresser, I lifted the small white box holding two cream baby blankets I had bought last month. I tucked the box carefully into the center of my suitcase. At five-thirty, Connor came home early to pack his beach gear. He stopped in the bedroom doorway when he saw my open suitcase. "Where are you taking those?" he asked. "To Audrey's," I said, folding a sweater without looking up. "I'm taking my things over there." Connor's shoulders relaxed. As far as he was concerned, I was spending a few days with my sister while he went to Cabo. "That's actually a great idea," he said, relief warming his voice. "You two can spend some time together, and you won't be stuck here stewing over the trip." He walked out to the dining room. When he saw that the printed anniversary schedules were gone from the table, he let out a quiet breath. To him, the cleared table meant I had finally accepted his decision. A few minutes later, he opened the closet and noticed the empty shelf where the gift bag with his anniversary watch had been sitting. He didn't ask about it. The tension left his face. One less reminder that this was supposed to be our anniversary. While he packed his duffel bag in the hallway, I stood by the bedroom door. I decided to give him one last chance. "Connor." I waited until he looked at me. "If I tell you I can't accept you taking Brooke on our trip, will you cancel?" His hands stopped on the zipper of his bag. He looked up at me with a tired frown. "Natalie, don't start this again," he said. "Brooke already told everyone she's going. If I tell her tonight that she can't come, how is she supposed to feel?" He walked over and patted my arm, as if comforting a child. "Stop turning a weekend with friends into a test," he said. "I'll make it up to you next month. I promise." His answer was clear. Brooke's disappointment was a crisis he had to prevent. My heartbreak was just a mood I was expected to get over. "All right," I said. I walked back into the bedroom and zipped my silver suitcase shut. At eight o'clock, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Audrey. [Victoria dropped off the divorce papers. My van is loaded and ready. Tell me when to come.] Ten minutes later, Connor came out of the bathroom after his shower and handed me his phone with a crooked smile. On the screen was the group chat with Jason, Eric, and Brooke. Jason had written: [Be honest, Connor. Is Natalie still mad, or are we calling an Uber XL tomorrow?] Connor had replied right below it: [Told you guys she'd come around. She even cleared away the anniversary stuff and packed a bag to stay at Audrey's while we're gone. Bring my $500 in the morning.] "See?" Connor tapped the screen as though I was in on the joke. "The guys didn't believe me. Thanks for not making me look bad, babe." I looked at the man who still believed he knew me. When he turned to hang up his towel, I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted my sister. [Tomorrow at five-forty. Right after he walks out the door to get Brooke.]