Chapter 2

My phone buzzed with a text from Michael.

"Are you home yet?"

I didn't reply.

Another message followed.

"Who was that guy who picked you up?"

I sent back two words.

"A friend."

The typing bubble lingered for a while before another message finally came through.

"We'll talk when I get home."

I locked my phone.

The living room was dark when I got home. I took off my shoes, tossed my bag onto the couch, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

My phone buzzed again.

"Emily just got back, and she needs to get her place sorted out. There's a lot of stuff to move, so I'm helping her with it. I might be home late."

I stared at the message for a moment, then slowly typed back.

"Whatever. You don't have to come home."

I took a shower, changed into my pajamas, and started moving my things from our bedroom into the guest room.

The bed was smaller, but it would do. I made the bed, fluffed the pillow, and opened the window to let in some air.

It was almost midnight when I heard the front door open. Michael's footsteps paused in the living room.

When he saw me in the guest room, he frowned. "What are you doing?"

I put the last stack of clothes into the closet. "Moving my things. Good, you're home. There's something I need to tell you."

He came over and stopped in the doorway, looking around the room. "What do you mean, moving your things? Why are you sleeping in here?"

I closed the closet door and turned to face him. "Michael, I don't think we're right for each other. We should get a divorce. If we're getting divorced, we shouldn't keep sharing a bedroom."

Michael froze. For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then his expression darkened. "What did you just say?"

"I said I want a divorce. You heard me."

His voice rose. "Because of dinner tonight? Sadie, you're being way too petty about this. Emily just got back. She invited us to dinner, and we caught up. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

I leaned against the closet and folded my arms. "She sat there commenting on my clothes and telling me I wasn't the kind of artsy woman you used to go for. You call that catching up?"

"She was just making offhand comments. Why are you taking them so seriously?"

I met his eyes. "And what about you? You cracked open a crab leg for her right in front of me. Then you said dating and marriage were two different things. How do you think that made me look?"

Michael's expression soured, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I was just stating a fact. Marriage is about being practical. Was I wrong?"

I nodded. "You weren't wrong. And what I said earlier was a fact too. I married you because we were a good fit, not because I loved you that much. I wasn't wrong either, was I?"

He stepped closer, looking down at me. "You've changed, Sadie. You never used to talk to me like this."

I wasn't going to argue with him anymore. "I've thought it through. We're not right for each other. I want a divorce."

He slapped a hand against the doorframe, his voice rising sharply.

"You think you can just decide we're getting divorced? Sadie, do you even know what you're saying? You want a divorce over something this small? How childish can you be?"

My voice rose too. "Small? Emily came back, and you spent the whole dinner ignoring me. Then you took her home and told me to take the subway by myself. You call that small?

"What would count as a big deal, then? Do I have to wait until the two of you end up in bed together?"

"Watch your mouth!" he shouted.

"Why? You can do whatever you want, but I can't say anything about it?"