Chapter 3

Over the next three days, Luca began to notice something was different.

I used to get up half an hour before him so breakfast would be ready when he left at eight.

At noon, I'd ask whether he'd eaten.

If he wasn't home by eleven, there would be at least two messages from me on his phone.

Now I did none of it.

On the fourth evening, he came home before eight for the first time in months.

He looked straight at me, seated at the desk with a stack of contracts for my design studio.

“Is your phone broken?”

“No.”

I didn't look up.

“Then why haven't you texted me all day?”

My pen paused.

“You've muted my messages. Does it make a difference whether I send them?”

He went still.

“I mute notifications so I can work without being interrupted. It isn't an excuse to take shots at me.”

“I'm not.”

I returned to the contract.

“I just think you were right. Adults have lives of their own. We don't need to organize everything around each other.”

For once, Luca had no immediate answer.

A few seconds later, he went into the bathroom, jaw tight. Soon I heard the shower.

A new email appeared on my laptop.

Claire had sent the draft settlement.

At the bottom, she'd added a note: Read this over. If you're comfortable with the terms, it may help to speak with your husband before we proceed.

I stared at the sentence for a long time.

I no longer wanted to tell him about the baby.

But I could at least tell him, face-to-face, that our marriage was over.

The bathroom door opened.

“Luca.”

He rubbed a towel through his hair.

“What?”

“We need to—”

His phone rang.

He answered and put it on speaker without thinking.

“Luca? My gum's bleeding again.”

His brow tightened.

“How much?”

“I'm not sure. A little on the gauze.” Bianca's voice grew smaller. “I'm home alone. It's scaring me.”

He set the towel down.

“Don't panic. I'll come take a look.”

He ended the call and reached for his jacket.

“She said it was only a little blood,” I said.

“She just had surgery. You don't take chances with a wound.”

Then he seemed to remember me.

“What were you going to say?”

Before I could answer, he picked up his keys.

“Never mind. It can wait until I get back.”

The door shut.

I replied to Claire.

The terms are fine. Let's proceed.

For a while, I sat very still.

Then I looked at my left hand.

I'd worn that ring for three years. In the shower. While cooking. Even when my fingers swelled and the band hurt.

I'd believed that as long as it stayed there, Luca and I were still building a life together.

Now I worked it gently over my knuckle.

When it came free, a deep pale groove remained.

I placed the ring in the drawer beside my discharge report.

Three years of marriage, and the final decision was as quiet as taking off a ring.

At one in the morning, Luca still wasn't home.

Once, I would have texted to ask when he was coming back.

That night, I closed my laptop and switched off the living-room lights.

I didn't ask where he was. I didn't leave a lamp on.

For the first time, it made no difference whether he came home at all.