And it establishes strict, enforceable terms governing personal travel, so that neither of us can ever again simply announce a four-day departure and walk out the door.

You sign that, and we rebuild this marriage on terms of actual partnership.” I paused.

“Or you choose the second option.

Which is the divorce petition that is sitting in the folder directly beneath it.” “Divorce?” he whispered, and all the blustering rage of a moment before collapsed, at once, into something small and shaky and uncertain.

“Evelyn, you’re talking about destroying our marriage over four days of fishing.” And I looked at him, and I understood that he still, even now, did not comprehend what had actually happened, that in his mind this was all wildly disproportionate, an insane overreaction to a minor domestic disagreement, and I realized I was going to have to say the true thing out loud.

Chapter 14 — A Drowning Woman