I was waiting for Nolan in our room when he returned from work in the evening.
“Hey,” he said as he closed the door behind him. His tone was solemn.
And then he saw where I was sitting, and what I was doing.
I was at the little dining table in our suite, with the divorce forms stacked neatly in front of me.
Nolan walked over slowly. He loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket on the way. His eyes were on the stack of papers the whole time.
“I decided… that I can agree to this,” I told him.
I couldn’t look him in the eye while I said it. I didn’t want him to see how badly I was hurting.
It was everything I could do just to sit through this. To say these awful words, do this awful thing.
“I signed it all,” I said. “I’m pret
