The day he got slapped with a court summons, Eric came crawling back.He stood out in the rain, yelling, sobbing, voice wrecked from all the begging. Apologies, promises—same old script. Swore up and down he'd never mess up again.I closed the curtains, popped in my earplugs, and sank into my soft bed.Not an ounce of sympathy left.For him, it was just a storm. For me? That marriage had been five years of nonstop drizzle.I figured he'd get the hint and leave. Nope. Morning rolled around, and he was still out there.His hair was drenched, stuck to his pale, washed-out face. I'd never seen him look so wrecked.I hadn't planned on facing him, but I had work.The second I stepped outside, he darted over like some lost puppy, eyes full of pathetic desperation."Don't give me that look," I said flat. "I'm not helping you.""I know you're mad. I've been thinking all night. I'm not asking for help—just one last chance. Remember this?"Eric opened his hand.Sitting in his palm was
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