The kettle clicked off at four fifteen, and Julian’s blue leather organizer lay open on the counter beside the sink.

A bank envelope showed under the flap, its corner bent.

I poured the hot water into a shallow bowl and set the bottle in it.

“Do you want dinner tonight, or are you staying late again?”

“I’m just working late to keep this roof over our heads, Nora.”

His voice came sharp through the phone speaker.

I turned my silver wedding band around my thumb.

“I asked about dinner.”

“And I gave you an answer.

I don’t need you managing my plate from across town.”

The line rustled.

I reached for the phone to end the call, and a woman’s voice cut in beside him, high and quick.

“Did you tell her about the savings yet?”

I stopped with the warm bottle in my hand.

“The emergency fund is already moved,” Julian said.

“She won’t find out until the papers are signed.”

“And the divorce?”

“After the anniversary.