“Last spring.”
“Physical?”
“No.”
“When physical?”
She hesitated.
“June.”
I sat back.
June.
Nine months earlier.
The receipt was not even the beginning.
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer hurt in a way the others had not.
Not because of the number.
Because counting had stopped.
I looked toward the clock.
5:12 a.m.
Outside, the sky was beginning to turn blue-gray.
People across the neighborhood would soon start coffee makers and open garage doors.
Inside our kitchen, twelve years had become a timeline.
“Was tonight supposed to end it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“With him?”
“Yes.”
“Or with me?”
Claire looked startled.
“With him.”
“You told me you were going to sleep with him.”
“I know.”
“Then come home.”
“Yes.”
“And pretend the last nine months had been one night.”
She covered her face again.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
For the first time that morning, I believed her completely.
I picked up my suitcase.
“Mark, please.”
“I have to leave.”
“Can we talk later?”
“Eventually.”
“Today?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
She stood.
“Don’t shut me out.”
I looked at her.
“For six months, every time I tried to talk to you, you called me controlling, jealous, paranoid, or insecure.”
Claire’s face tightened.
“You don’t get to punish me for that forever.”
“I’m not.”
“Then stay.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
I carried the suitcase toward the door.
Claire followed until the kitchen ended.
“You’re really leaving.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
I stopped.
That sentence.
Again.
Not I didn’t understand how badly this would hurt you.
Not I thought you would forgive me.
I didn’t think you would.
The consequence had been unimaginable.
My pain had not.
I looked back.
“I know.”
Then I left.
The hotel room smelled like industrial carpet cleaner and old air conditioning.
I sat on the edge of the bed for nearly an hour without unpacking.
At 8:30, Thomas called.
He asked whether I had slept.
“No.”
“Then don’t sign anything today.”
“I know what I want.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s annoying.”
“It’s why you called me.”
He was right.
Thomas explained Ohio property rules, financial disclosure, and the difference between emotional betrayal and legal advantage.
He told me divorce did not become simple because the facts were ugly.
“Do not treat this like revenge,” he said.
“I don’t want revenge.”
“Good.”
“What do I do?”