“You don’t need a lawyer to decide whether you want your husband back.”

“I have two six-month-old children to think about,” I said.

“That’s exactly why we need to settle this without the courts,” Cole said, tapping his finger on the table.

“I’m offering you a clean slate, Lauren.”

I stood up, picked up my handbag, and left the two huge gift boxes sitting on the red velvet bench.

Cole walked beside me down Madison Avenue, his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his tailored cashmere overcoat.

“Look at this block,” Cole said, nodding toward the brass entrance of a brownstone where a doorman was sweeping fresh frost off the steps.