The day I finally got home from the hospital, Jeff came home from work to find a locksmith changing the locks on the front door and a bailiff waiting for him at the curb with a thick envelope.
“What’s going on?” he asked, his face flushed as he ran toward me, sitting on the porch.
“Renovations,” I said, my speech almost back to normal. “Of various kinds.”
A woman staring intently at someone | Source: Midjourney
The bailiff then stepped forward and had Jeff sign the divorce papers. Evidence of his infidelity was enclosed in color. The envelope also contained the eviction notice.
She screamed. She cried. She begged.
“Marie, please. This is madness,” he begged, kneeling. “We can fix this!”
“How did you organize our anniversary trip?” I asked him calmly.
A woman frowns while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry! I was angry. I couldn’t think straight.”
“Well,” I said, slowly rising to my feet, “I am.”
I gave him one last envelope.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice suddenly suspicious.
“A gift,” I said.
