I decided, somewhere in that phone call, that I would not do it.

I would say the whole thing out loud, however foolish it made me look, because my silence was the one thing Rebecca still had a claim on, and I was finished handing her things.

Thomas thanked me, at the end, for going forward where he had not.

I told him he had it backwards — that he’d handed me the map of the minefield, and that his one hour on the phone had armed me better than any lawyer could.

Nine months after the wedding that never was, Rebecca accepted a settlement.