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I took a deep breath and checked my phone. My lawyer could meet me in twenty minutes. That would give me time to navigate traffic and find parking. I put the picture back on the piano, and when it fell over, I didn’t pick it back up.

The drive passed in a blur, but I made it to the office, standing in front of the secretary two minutes before Barbara said she could meet me. The secretary looked professional, with just the right amount of sympathy in her eyes.

“She’ll see you now,” she said with a soft smile.

I walked into the spacious office where Barbara stood in her beige suit, looking out the windows at her lovely view.

“Mary Cooper. I always thought your husband was too good to be true. Do you have proof?” She half-turned towards me, her face holding lines of respectability as she studied me with the quiet confidence I’d appreciated in college when we took classes together. We were both going to be lawyers. I’d ended up a housewife instead.

I smiled stiffly and held up my phone. “Of course.”

She sighed heavily. “Have you been to the bank yet?”

“No, that’s my next stop.”

“Good. You know all the paperwork you need to fill out. You’re the most organized planner I’ve ever met. Most people hope for the best without planning for the worst, but not you.”

That felt like an accusation. Like I was a freak who couldn’t trust anyone and had been planning my divorce since I got married. If that was true, I wouldn’t have been unaware of his cheating for an entire year. How could I have been so stupid? Three weeks for his annual business trips, with limited calls and texting? Likely story.

I sat down and started filling in the proper boxes, hesitating on the visitation rights. He loved his kids. He was an excellent father. Except for the three-week business trips. And the late nights. And the early mornings.

I scribbled on the paper, my nib burrowing into the paper like it was him. I’d keep the kids, and he could have limited visitation. At least I knew I’d never let them down.

She sat next to me, watching me more than the papers I was filling out.

“Do you have somewhere you can go?” she asked.

I glanced at her. “Not yet. I’m planning on a long-term suite until I can find an appropriate rental.”

Her neatly lined brows rose. “You’re selling the house?”

“Of course. It’s in my name.”

“Of course it is, but⁠—”

“I’ll split the profits, but I can’t live there.”

She shook her head. “Mary, I’ve known you for a long time. You’re a strong person, but even strong people break over something like this. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Do you have somewhere you can go where someone else can help you deal with this transition? Family? Close friends?”

Barbara was probably my closest friend. So no, I had no close friends. I had my foster siblings, but I hadn’t tried to stay close. I’d wanted to close the door on that time in my life, although I felt responsible for them, particularly Gloria and her delusional worldview. She actually thought she was a real fortune-teller who could see the future. Had she seen this coming? Esther had seen it.

I gave her a stiff smile. “I’m going to my cousin’s house after this meeting.”

Some of the tension left her face. “Good. You can go out with her and get some drinks, maybe dance with someone handsome, someone to remind you that your soon-to-be ex-husband isn’t the only man in the world.”

I stood and swept up the papers. “I’m not paying by the hour for you to give me personal advice.”

She gave me a slight smile. “I’ll take those three minutes off your account.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Do you have a job lined up yet?”

I hesitated. Job. I’d been pursuing a career as a high-profile lawyer when I met Clark. “No. While the kids and I transition to a new space and a new schedule, I’m going to give myself breathing room.”

“Don’t take too long off. Depression is common, and you can spiral if you don’t have something else to focus on, like work. Then again, knowing your workaholic tendencies, it’s probably good for you to take some time off before you join the work force. I have no doubt in your ability to land something stable in a short amount of time with your skills.”

Skills? I never should’ve quit college to have a child. I’d already be a professional woman like Barbara, with an amazing office and no betrayal. But I’d have no hugs or laughter, either. Then again, when was the last time I’d really laughed?