The Divorce Papers Arrived Three Days After My Numbers Finally Matched

He went back to the sink, and I stayed on the floor with the flashlight getting warm in my hand.

At seven he brought me tea in the chipped mug, the one with the bite out of the handle that only I use.

I was in the recliner with a library book open on my chest, and I hadn’t turned a page in twenty minutes.

“Here.” He set it on the arm of the chair.

“Chamomile.”

I don’t drink chamomile.

“How’s your sister today?”