The home surrounding us was the exact place I had spent months planning alongside the architects. Sunlight streamed through the large ceiling glass that Mark always bragged about whenever we entertained colleagues. The marble counter where we sat had once been our family hub, where we carved pumpkin lanterns, planned summer trips, and checked homework. Now, it was the spot where my husband was systematically dividing our entire life into items he wanted to claim and the one person he was willing to abandon.
I felt a sharp stinging sensation behind my eyes, but I refused to let a single tear fall. Mark had spent our entire marriage treating any sign of emotion as a fundamental character flaw.
I looked straight at him and kept my posture steady.
“All right,” I answered quietly.
He blinked in surprise, clearly shocked that I had agreed so easily without shouting or arguing.
“Is that really all you have to say?” he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
