“My company is going public next month,” he said, turning back to Emily. “My communications team has been very clear that my personal brand matters right now. Image matters. And the image of being married to someone who—” he gestured vaguely in her direction, “—doesn’t quite belong in the circles we move in, it creates noise. My team says a cleaner image—”
“So I’m bad for your stock value,” Emily said quietly.
He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t make it dramatic. It’s a business calculation. You shouldn’t take it personally.”
He tapped the folder.
“The prenuptial agreement is airtight—my lawyers were very thorough. You are not entitled to any portion of the company, any of the investments, any of the properties. You signed that document two years ago, so let’s not pretend there’s any ambiguity.” He reached into his breast pocket and drew out a credit card, matte black, and slid it across the table with the casual ease of a man leaving a tip. “There’s money loaded on that. Enough to cover a reasonable place for a month, maybe more if you’re careful. Consider it compensation. A gesture of goodwill.”
He paused for effect.
“And you can keep the old car.”