Carter laughed. "Tessa, you really know how to pick them. A tantrum over a snowman? No wonder they say the useless men have the biggest tempers."
I met his gaze with zero warmth. "If it weren't for the snowman, I might have played the fool longer. But since she built that specific snowman... it's over."
Tessa stomped her foot, tears welling—a perfect performance. "Oliver Fox, do you have no heart? I'm out here working on New Year's Eve to support us, and you want a divorce over a pile of snow?"
"Ignore him," Carter scoffed. "He's just a leech with too much time. Pushing forty with no job, no prospects. Let him sign. How's he going to survive without your money?"
He wasn't entirely wrong about the optics.
Five years ago, I'd stepped back to become a full-time househusband. To the world, I was a parasite attached to the successful female executive. In reality, I'd let my own brilliance collect dust to polish hers.
If I'd only had that anonymous email, I might not have pulled the trigger. But seeing the symbol of their perversion right in front of me—I wasn't swallowing this anymore.