We reviewed the prenuptial agreement, which protected Everett’s business and pre marriage assets with impressive thoroughness, but left room where it mattered most now.
Children had not been part of his original calculations.
That would matter. Over the next several weeks, I prepared my exit.
I opened a separate bank account in my maiden name and began transferring small amounts carefully, enough to build security without raising suspicion. I rented an apartment near the river, modest but filled with light, signing the lease with a hand that steadied after the first line.
I moved parts of my life there gradually, beginning with the things Everett would never notice missing because he had never truly seen them.
My certifications, framed and stored away. Old case files. Professional clothing. Pieces of a life I had set aside.
Each trip felt less like leaving and more like reclaiming. Meanwhile, Everett continued as if nothing was shifting beneath him.
He discussed pediatricians, complained about traffic, and spoke about the future as if it still belonged entirely to him.
One evening, he came up behind me while I was loading the dishwasher and said, “Things will calm down after the baby.”