I showed up at the hospital to surprise my husband during his shift. But the second one of his coworkers saw me, all the color left his face. Then his eyes filled with tears. “He hasn’t said a word to you, has he?” Ben and I had been married eleven years, and for every one of those years, I had shared him with the hospital. He was a remarkably gifted surgeon.

The kindest thing he had done all year was being bent into a weapon to destroy him completely.

Brian took a pen out of his jacket pocket and brought the tip down toward the signature line.

“Brian, don’t you touch that paper!”

“Hannah, please,” he murmured, not looking at me.

“We’re going to lose the house, Emma’s going to lose her private school, and I can’t let you go under with me in my mess.”

He pressed the document flat against the wooden door frame, getting ready to sign his name.

I lunged forward, yanked the document out from under his pen, and tore the paper in two before ripping it to shreds.