Ethan sat across the laminate table from me.

He looked ten years older. The bespoke suit from the trial hung loosely on his diminished frame. Rachel was conspicuously absent.

According to Lauren’s intel, she’d severed ties with Ethan the moment the criminal fraud referral became public. She was now cooperating with the District Attorney’s investigators, trading her testimony for immunity.

I didn’t ask for the sordid details. Some knowledge offers zero peace. The dissolution agreement was a bloodbath in my favor. The house, the retirement accounts, the investments—all untouchable.

On top of that, Ethan was legally required to liquidate his failing construction company’s remaining heavy machinery to begin restitution payments for the stolen funds.

I didn’t gloat when Lauren slid the final decree across the table. I didn’t smile. I just picked up the heavy Montblanc pen and signed my name. For twenty-three years, I’d labored under the delusion that marriage meant shouldering the heavy burdens together.