Chapter 3

"One day, when we can afford it," Talia had promised, "I'll give you the wedding you deserve. The best one."

But her career took off. She got busier, and the wedding kept getting pushed back.

I never demanded it. I told myself a ceremony didn't matter if we loved each other. Neither did keeping our marriage private. If her colleagues didn't know about me, that was fine too.

Now I understood.

She hadn't loved me enough to make room for me in her life.

My phone buzzed.

Two messages from Talia.

I'll come home tonight.

We need to discuss the divorce.

I stared at the screen. After ten years of struggling beside her, helping her study for exams, sharing cramped rentals, and watching her work her way up from junior doctor to department chief, she planned to walk away with a new lover and a spotless future.

Why should she get to leave so easily?

I couldn't make sense of it. I sat in the car until night fell. Only then did I drive home.

Talia was waiting on the couch, looking tired. She didn't bother with small talk. She handed me a document.

"I agree to the divorce you mentioned this afternoon," she said, in the same measured tone she used to discuss operating schedules. "I'm the one at fault. You can keep the house, the car, and our savings."

I read the proposed settlement. She was offering to leave with nothing.

How generous.

But why should I just let go and leave the two of them to their happy ending?

"Why Bastien?" I asked. "What does he have that I don't?"

After a moment, she answered, "There's nothing wrong with you, Wes. You're a good man. We've just been together too long."

Her voice softened. "Bastien is different. He's lively. Being with him makes everything feel easy."

So there it was.

She wasn't leaving because I'd failed her. She was bored.

"Bastien doesn't know any of this," she added, suddenly stern. "He doesn't know I'm married. He doesn't even know you exist. Whatever happens between us, leave him out of it."

I let out a bitter laugh.

"He's innocent," she insisted. "He's kind, and he won't know how to handle this. Wes, don't hurt him."

Watching her protect another man, I found my chest no longer hurt. All that was left was cold.

Then my phone lit up with a message from her parents.

They had always been scrupulously fair, even when it came to their own daughter.

A bold idea took shape.

"I'll agree to the divorce," I said.

Relief flashed across Talia's face.

"On one condition. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. We're going to your parents' house for the family gathering. I want us to spend one last holiday together. After that, I'll sign."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine."

Upstairs, I opened my messages to Bastien.

I'd like to place another big pie order for tomorrow at noon. Can you deliver them to the house?

I sent an unusually generous deposit.

His reply came almost instantly.

Of course! I'll be there on time.

I looked at the screen and smiled.

Oh, Talia. I was genuinely looking forward to our last Thanksgiving.

* * *

The next morning, she drove me to the Rademacher family home. Nearly the whole family was there for Thanksgiving.

Her mother, Diane, hurried forward as soon as she spotted me and squeezed my hand.

"Wes! There you are. You're always so busy with work. I hardly get to see you anymore. I've missed you."