His Dancer, His Chains novel · Chapter 20 of 24

Chapter 20: A Door

Rafferty's POV

I had my lawyer draw up the papers on Saturday night, while my wife slept down the hall.

He asked me twice if I was certain.

I said I was.

By six on Sunday morning they lay on the kitchen island in a grey folder, with a pen on top.

I made coffee, and I made it badly.

She had left a mug on the counter from the night before, with a lipstick mark on the rim.

I looked at that mug for a long time.

My lawyer had said on the phone that most men in my position would keep the shares and let the papers sit.

I had told him I was not most men, and he had said that was exactly what worried him.

I picked up the mug to wash it, and then I put it back where she had left it.

It was hers to move.

The bill was paid now.

She owed nothing to the Belchers and nothing to me.

I wanted her to know that before she decided one more thing in this building.

I had started this marriage by taking away her choice.

I had wanted the next move to give it back.

She came down at seven in my shirt, with her hair loose, and stopped on the bottom stair.

"You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep."

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