Russell Crane stepped out, carrying a thick leather folio under his arm. He gave me a brief, cold nod before walking toward the elevators.
I stood up and walked past the empty assistant’s desk straight into Adrian’s office.
He was sitting behind his mahogany desk, signing his name on three copies of a blue document.
On the corner of the desk sat his silver keychain, the one shaped like the original transit logo we designed on our kitchen table.
“What about our joint savings, Adrian?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and slow.
He checked his gold watch, then set his gold pen down. “There are no joint savings, Mrs. Lane. The company accounts are corporate property.”
“We built this company together,” I said. “We both know who built this family, Adrian.”
“The court will look at the active registration,” Adrian said, his voice booming with that practiced corporate confidence he used at the annual dinners. “And you will leave this marriage with exactly what you brought into it. Nothing.”
He did not know I still held the original charter, the one from twelve years ago that listed my maiden name as the sole owner.
I reached out and picked up the silver keychain from the desk, slipping it into my coat pocket.
“We will see what the court says,” I said.
“The court will say what my lawyers tell them to say,” Adrian said.
He reached down, picked up his leather briefcase from the chair, and pulled the top flap down.
The sound of his leather briefcase snapping shut as he walks out the door.
The kitchen felt too large after the front door clicked shut. I stood by the stove, my hand still resting on the wooden spoon in the pot of potato soup. The steam rose into my face, warm and thick, but it did not clear the chill that had settled in the room.
Leo and Toby sat at the laminate table, their schoolbooks open but untouched. They were fourteen, old enough to notice the gaps in the house but young enough to wait for me to explain them.
“Why is Dad’s closet empty?” Toby asked, holding his spoon halfway to his mouth.
I turned from the stove, keeping my voice as steady as the counter beneath my hand. “He has to stay closer to the main transit depot for a few weeks. The autumn schedules are changing, and the late routes need more supervision.”
Leo, who was always more observant, looked down at his math homework. “He took his black garment bag, Mom. The one he uses for long trips.”
“He has several meetings in Richmond,” I said.
I set the bowls down, the ceramic clinking against the wood. My wedding band felt tight on my fingers, and I gently rubbed the silver band with my thumb to keep from checking the kitchen window.
“Is he coming back for my soccer game on Saturday?” Toby asked.
“We will have to see how his schedule looks,” I said.
They ate in silence, the only sound the scraping of spoons against the bowls. I knew I needed to check our accounts in the morning, just to ensure the winter tuition payments were secure.
The morning air was damp, carrying the scent of wet limestone as I walked up the steps of the Fairfax County Savings bank. The sky was the color of a wet slate shingle, and the wind had a bite to it that promised an early winter.
