“Then explain it,” I said.
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Mom needed help.”
Marjorie snapped toward him.
“Adrian.”
He ignored her.
“Her business was struggling.
I was going to put it back.”
“With what?”
He said nothing.
Elena did.
“That is one of the questions we will address formally.”
Marjorie grabbed her handbag.
“I’m leaving.”
I looked at her.
“You should stay.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.”
“No.
But you may want to hear what your son told Daniel about you.”
She stopped.
Adrian stood again.
“Claire, enough.”
His voice had changed back.
The command was returning.
He took one step toward me.
Daniel moved between us.
Adrian halted.
The room went still.
For six years, Adrian had controlled distance.
He decided when to crowd me, when to whisper, when to block a doorway.
Now someone else occupied the space.
“Don’t,” Daniel said.
One word.
Adrian looked at me over his shoulder.
“You’re enjoying this.”
I thought about the bathroom floor.
The hidden phone.
The makeup bag.
The way he had calmly told me to smile for his mother.
“No,” I said.
“I’m ending it.”
Elena placed a final envelope in front of him.
Inside were formal documents beginning the process of separating our finances and ending the marriage.
Adrian stared at them.
“You’re divorcing me?”
“Yes.”
Marjorie laughed once, sharply.
“After one argument?”
I looked at her.
“This is not about one argument.”
I removed the makeup from beneath my eye with a damp cloth I had placed beside me earlier.
The bruise slowly appeared.
Marjorie’s expression changed.
Adrian looked away.
“He did that?” she asked.
I did not answer immediately.
