I was reluctant.
My dissertation was unfinished.
The model still had problems.
“Just preliminary conversations,” he promised.
That phrase would eventually cost me almost everything.
Around the same time, Rebecca Lane entered our lives.
She was a corporate attorney helping structure Michael’s new company.
Beautiful.
Confident.
Efficient.
She laughed at Michael’s jokes before he finished them.
I noticed.
Women always notice.
When I asked him about her, he kissed my forehead.
“You’re exhausted.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“She’s a lawyer.”
“So lawyers can’t have affairs?”
He became angry.
I apologized.
That became a pattern.
Then one Tuesday in March, Michael came home at 11:40 p.m.
The boys were asleep.
I was at the kitchen table surrounded by research notes.
He didn’t take off his coat.
“Laura, we need to talk.”
Everyone knows those words.
Nothing good has ever followed them.
He sat across from me.
“I’m leaving.”
