I reached for the blue vinyl folder and pulled it onto my lap.
The cover was cool against my skin, the plastic smelling of new vinyl and cheap glue.
I looked at the window, where my own reflection showed a pale face and tired eyes.
I opened the folder, the first page of the contract staring back at me.
Under the signature line, the notary block was already filled out with the name of Julian’s personal assistant.
The date was listed as tomorrow morning.
I stared at the empty space where my name was printed, the letters small and gray.
The room felt cold, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound left in the dark.
I closed the cover and let my hand rest on the smooth plastic.
I spent the next hour watching the digital clock on the wall, the red numbers ticking toward midnight.
I was left alone with the quiet breathing of my sons and the weight of the choice before me.
I was left staring at the blue vinyl folder holding the agreement on my bedside table.
