I could pull any girl off the street who’d be more obedient than you.

We’ll live like royalty without you.

Let’s see who wants a used, divorced woman.”

They honestly believed they were threatening me.

They thought I would be frightened of the shame of divorce, frightened of being alone, that I would go to my knees and beg to stay.

It genuinely did not occur to either of them that every wall around them had been paid for by me — that the roof and the cold air and the dinner arriving in ten minutes were all mine, and that “get out” was not a punishment but a door held open.