Her red fingernails tapped slowly on the polished walnut table as if she already owned the room, while Caleb sat beside her with a satisfied smile that made the meeting feel like a routine contract signing rather than the collapse of our marriage.
Across the table my attorney Douglas Whitaker calmly reviewed a stack of legal documents while I stared at the wide glass wall that revealed the skyline outside and reminded myself to breathe slowly.
Tiffany leaned forward first and spoke with a smile that felt rehearsed.
“You have delayed this long enough, Rachel,” she said in a bright voice. “Caleb has real responsibilities running a global company, and you have none.”
She slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill across the table with two fingers as though she were tipping a waiter.
“Take this and call a cab back to your parents’ house,” she added coldly. “Goodbye.”
For a moment the room became silent.
Then Douglas suddenly burst into loud laughter that echoed off the glass walls and startled everyone at the table.
Caleb straightened in his chair while Tiffany’s confident smile cracked slightly.
“What exactly is funny?” Caleb demanded.