"I need you to draft a divorce agreement."
"Yeah. It's happening."
"How's your brother's house hunt going? I could sell him mine at a discount."
"I accepted the offer overseas. Leaving next week."
Silence on the other end. Then, after a long pause, a sigh.
"You and Elaine... how did it come to this?"
The words carried genuine regret. A few more concerned questions, and then the call ended.
Good question.
Ten years together, and even I couldn't pinpoint when we'd gone so wrong.
If Henry Gray was an invisible thorn—a dull, persistent ache I could never quite locate—then Elaine secretly aborting our baby was a blade that split me open.
The next day, I went to the office and completed my resignation paperwork.
My supervisor watched me with a look of pride. There was reluctance in his eyes, but more than that, there was genuine well-wishing.
Over the following days, Elaine didn't show up once.
Which suited me fine. I hired movers to pack up the apartment.
"These are all designer pieces, sir. We're not comfortable handling them. Maybe you'd rather pack these yourself?"