We don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“I appreciate that.

It won’t happen again.”

Marcus nodded and walked back to his office.

By eleven o’clock, Scott had left four more voicemails.

I played the latest one on speaker, keeping the volume low.

“The dealership is sending a flatbed to tow the Mercedes,” Scott sobbed into the recording.

“They’re doing it in front of the neighbors, Avery.

Kayla is locking herself in the bathroom.

The bank is threatening to call the police for fraud because of the financial statements I signed.

You have to fix this.”

I deleted the voicemail.

I tried to focus on my spreadsheet, but the numbers began to blur.

I knew Scott’s pattern of behavior.

When he was backed into a corner, he did not apologize or back down.

He lashed out.

At noon, a new email notification popped up on my computer screen.

It was from Scott’s personal email address.

The attachment was a PDF document labeled *Agreement_Draft_Final.pdf*.

I opened the document.

It was a poorly drafted post-nuptial agreement.

The text stated that we had mutually agreed to separate two years ago.