stay away. His absence had once saddened me; now I welcomed rooms untouched by memories of him. There were no suits, no lingering expensive cologne, no phone charging beside the bed. Even the quiet was mine.
Nathan phoned at nine the next morning.
“They’ve responded.”
“That was fast.”
“Your husband has expensive attorneys.”
“So do I, apparently.”
“You do.”
I heard documents rustling at his end.
“They want the Slack post removed.”
“No.”
“Expected that.”
“They want a written clarification saying your statement was made during a private marital disagreement
