Chapter 10: What Tuesday Felt Like
My lawyer's name was Patricia Howe.
She had an office on the fourteenth floor of a building downtown, with large windows and no unnecessary furniture.
She had been recommended by Luca three weeks ago, the same day I told him about the affair.
She had reviewed everything I brought her and had not wasted a single word.
I arrived at nine.
Adrian was already there, seated across the table with his own attorney beside him.
He looked like a man who had not slept well in five days.
Which was accurate.
He stood when I came in.
I nodded.
We both sat down.
Patricia opened the folder in front of her.
"I think we can keep this straightforward," she said.
"Mr.
Cole has indicated he intends to be cooperative, and his attorney has confirmed that position.
So let's begin."
What followed was two hours of careful, specific, practical conversation.
The apartment.
The joint accounts.
The assets held in my name versus his.
The prenuptial agreement — which Adrian had insisted on four years ago and which now, ironically, worked significantly in my favor.
At one point Adrian's attorney raised a question about a piece of property in Connecticut.
Adrian cut him off.
"Give it to her," he said.
His attorney turned.
"Adrian—"
"It was her grandmother's money that funded the purchase.
Give it to her."
His attorney made a note.
Patricia looked at me.
I gave her a small nod.
Near the end of the meeting, Adrian's attorney stepped out to take a call.
The room was quiet for a moment.
Patricia excused herself to make copies.
Adrian and I sat across the table from each other.
"The board meeting went well," he said.
"For the company, I mean.
The auditor's preliminary report is clean on my end."
"I heard."
"I'm going to rebuild it.
The right way."
"I believe you."
He looked down at the table.
"I keep thinking about what I said to you.
At the party."
"Adrian—"
"I need to say it properly." He looked up.
"I was cruel to you.
Not just that night.
For a long time.
I told myself it was just the way things were between us, but that was — it was a lie I told myself because it was convenient." He paused.
"You deserved better than what I gave you."
I looked at him for a moment.
"Yes," I said.
"I did."
He nodded.
He didn't try to say anything else.
He just accepted it, the way you accept something that is true and painful and cannot be made smaller by talking around it.
When his attorney came back, we finished the paperwork.
I signed where Patricia indicated.
Adrian signed where his attorney indicated.
Hands moved across pages.
Dates were written.
Copies were made.
At eleven fifteen, it was done.
Patricia walked me to the elevator.
"You did well," she said.
"Thank you for everything."
"Call me if anything comes up with the fraud proceedings.
Your name may come up as a witness."
"I know.
I'm prepared."
The elevator arrived.
I stepped in.
The doors closed.
I stood in the small, quiet space between the fourteenth floor and the lobby and felt the particular stillness of something that has been finished.
Not happiness, exactly.
Not relief, exactly.
Something quieter than both.
Something that had been waiting a long time to be allowed in.
The doors opened on the lobby.
I walked out into the afternoon.
Dominic was waiting outside on the pavement.
He hadn't been asked.
He was just there, the way he had always been there, the way all five of them had always been there when it mattered.
He looked at my face.
"Done?" he said.
"Done."
He put his arm around my shoulders.
We stood there for a moment on the pavement, in the ordinary afternoon, with the city moving around us the way cities do.
"Come have lunch," he said.
"All five of you?"
"All five."
I laughed.
It came out smaller than I expected, and then larger, and then it was just laughter on a Tuesday afternoon outside a building downtown.
May you like
"Yes," I said.
"All five."
