Chapter 2 - FIRST TO SIGN
"You do understand," Laura said, "that signing a petition doesn't make you divorced tomorrow?"
"I know."
"You cannot just wake up single because you signed something at sunrise. Alex has to be served, and a court has to enter a judgment."
"Good. I want him to get a real piece of paper. With my name on it."
Laura's office smelled like burnt coffee and printer toner. My shoes were drying under the radiator. She'd loaned me a sweatshirt that said ASK ME ABOUT MY BAD DECISIONS.
"I'm not commenting on the shirt," I said.
"I wasn't commenting on the marriage. Yet."
It was the first thing that made me smile.
She put a legal pad between us. "Start with the boring stuff. Property. Accounts. Your business. Did you ever add Alex to Hart & Honey Events?"
"No. I started it before we got married. He wanted me to bring it under Bennett Hospitality. I said no."
"And your mother's storefront?"
"Still mine. I rent it to a bakery. Why?"
"Because wealthy families get very sentimental about other people's assets."
I leaned back. "Laura."
"I'm serious. Tell me about the prenup."
I remembered a lawyer turning pages at a conference table the night before the wedding while Alex's mother, Diane, watched from the doorway. I'd been twenty-seven, wearing borrowed heels, and desperate not to make trouble.
"I had counsel," I said. "Technically. They paid for a lawyer to look at it."
Laura made a note. "We'll get the original. We'll also look at what happened during the marriage. Prenups don't make every dollar invisible."
I told her about Victoria, the baby, the gender reveal, the rooms at the Bennett estate. Halfway through, my voice broke on the word nursery.
"He knew what that room meant to me," I said. "I painted the trim when I was sick after the miscarriage."
Laura didn't say something cheerful. She pushed a box of tissues across the desk. A minute later she asked, "Do you want him to know about your pregnancy now?"
My hand went to my stomach.
"Not from divorce papers," I said. "I need a doctor to tell me everything's okay first."
"Then don't make promises I can't keep. Medical privacy is one thing; later court disclosures are another. We'll handle it carefully."
By dawn, we'd drafted the petition and a request to preserve financial records. I read every line. Twice. When Laura asked whether I wanted another day to think, I signed.
My fingers were stained blue from a pen with a cracked cap.
"There," I said.
She took the pages. "We'll file these. But first, get some sleep."
I slept for forty minutes in the passenger seat of her car, parked outside my office. By the time I went upstairs, the city was turning pale pink.
My assistant, Maddy, was restocking the coffee pods. She looked at my clothes. "Rough night?"
"You could say that."
"Do I call your husband?"
"No."
I must have said it too sharply. Her face changed.
"Sorry. I didn't—"
"No, Maddy. I'm sorry." I touched her arm. "Can you reschedule my ten o'clock?"
"Already did. Mr. Bennett's office sent flowers."
I looked toward my desk.
A card lay beside a dozen white roses. It said Happy Anniversary.
Our anniversary had been yesterday.
A second later, I heard Alex's voice from the hall.
"Erin? We need to talk."
May you like
He stepped inside carrying another bouquet, smiling like a man who hadn't rehearsed my humiliation for a room full of guests.
And in his other hand was a leather folder I recognized from his mother's attorney.
