The SUV is my company’s.

Your phone is on my corporate plan.

Your health insurance runs through my business.” I reached the porch, where a dark sedan sat waiting with its engine running, and he followed me out into the night and shouted the sentence that was the truest thing he said all evening, the sentence his entire understanding of me rested on: “Where do you think you can possibly go without my money?”

I buckled Amelia into her seat, and Lucas climbed in beside her, and then I turned and looked at my husband, and behind all his fury I could finally see it clearly — the single load-bearing assumption of our entire nine-year marriage, that I could never, ever afford to leave him.

I opened the front passenger door.

“You should call your attorney, Brandon,” I said.