Chapter 21: Her Terms

I sat on the edge of the mattress with the decree in my lap and read every line.

It was five pages long.

The last page had a gray line for my signature and a clerk's stamp, and under the stamp it said the marriage ended on the day I signed.

Dalton stood at the stove in yesterday's T-shirt and did not breathe.

"You don't have to do it now," he said.

"I know."

"You can take it home and think."

"I know that too."

"I'll walk you to the car. I'll carry the envelope. I'll carry it back to the courthouse myself if you want."

"Dalton, you're babbling."

"Yes," he said. "I'm panicking. It's what I do now."

I laughed, and he stared at me.

I took the old black fountain pen off the windowsill, where it had lived for five weeks, and uncapped it.

Dalton shut his eyes.

I turned the decree over so the signature line faced the wall.

Then I put the pen down on top of it.

"I'm not signing it," I said.

His eyes opened.

"You're not."

"Not today."

"Monica..."

"I'm not saying yes either. Sit down."

He sat on the floor with his back against the shelf, and Biscuit moved over to make room.

"I have terms," I said.

"Anything."

"That's the first thing you say, and it's the first one on the list. You don't say anything. You say what you'll actually do."

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