The Price of a Perfect Marriage and the Silent Rebuild of My Worth
He walked over to the desk and leaned his hands on the polished wood, looking down at me.
“I know what you’ve been doing, Clara,” he said.
I did not flinch.
I leaned back in the leather chair, keeping my hands flat on the desk.
The wood felt cool against my palms.
“You should close the door more quietly next time,” I said.
Ethan did not move.
His eyes were bloodshot, and I could smell the faint scent of whiskey on his breath.
“I’m not playing games with you, Clara,” he said.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He threw it onto the mahogany desk.
It landed between us, white and sharp against the dark wood.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It is a settlement agreement,” Ethan said.
“It is very generous, considering the circumstances.”
I did not touch the paper.
“And what are the circumstances, Ethan?”
He let out a short, dry laugh and walked toward the window.
The gray twilight was fading outside, casting long shadows across the Persian rug.