The executive suite was dark except for the amber desk lamp throwing long shadows over the cedar paneling.

I undid the wrist snap of my left glove and peeled back the leather.

The plain gold wedding ring sat on my finger, cool and pale against my skin.

For ninety days nobody in this company had seen it.

Three months earlier I’d stood in our kitchen on Seminole Street and told Hannah our six years of marriage were a mistake built on convenient business deals.

I lied straight to her face.