My Last Twelve Hours as His Wife
On the day I decide to divorce Evan Beckett, I still make lunch and deliver it to him in person.
After he takes a sip out of the soup, he widens his eyes in surprise.
"The soup's pretty decent! I'll have it again tomorrow!"
I nod in response.
"Sure thing. I'll teach the housekeeper how to cook it later."
That's when Evan lifts his head to look at me.
"You got something going on tomorrow?"
"Let's get a divorce, Evan."
I sound very calm; so calm that everyone, including Evan, thinks that I'm throwing another tantrum.
But what they don't know is that I'll be traveling to the ends of the earth with a research team, where we'll be based in for eternity, in 12 hours.