He caught them.
Held several in his hands.
Then thought:
Why am I preserving her place exactly as she left it?
The question remained.
He found an empty moving box in the basement.
Placed the scarves inside.
Then stopped.
The act looked enormous once completed.
One box.
Her things.
The Husband stood over it.
His heart pounded.
He almost removed everything.
Then the Wife’s voice returned.
You always forgive me.
He taped the box.
Wrote:
HALL CLOSET.
The next box was easier.
Shoes.
Then winter coats.
He did not throw anything.
Did not damage anything.
He folded.
Wrapped fragile items.
Labeled boxes.
By lunchtime, six sat inside the dining room.
The Husband looked at them.
The house had already changed.
He kept going.
Sunday evening, the Wife sent a photograph.
Not intentionally revealing.
A restaurant table.
Cocktail.
City lights.
Caption:
Trying to breathe again.
The Husband studied the photograph.
A man’s hand appeared at the edge of the frame.
Watch.
Silver cuff.
The Other Man.
Something inside him finally hardened completely.
Not into hatred.
Detachment.
She wanted to be free.
Fine.
He would believe her.
Monday morning, the Husband sat across from the Divorce Attorney in a Princeton office.
His friend had aged since college.
Less hair.
Better suit.
Same habit of tapping a pen against paper while thinking.
The Attorney reviewed the situation.
“You understand New Jersey uses equitable distribution.”
“Yes.”
“Equitable does not necessarily mean equal.”
“I understand.”
“Your house predates the marriage, but appreciation, improvements, contributions and other factors can matter.”
“Fine.”
The Attorney looked up.
“You’re remarkably calm.”
“I’m not.”
“You look calm.”
“That’s different.”
The Attorney nodded.
“Good distinction.”
They discussed accounts.
Property.
Temporary arrangements.
Communication.
The Husband asked:
“Can I pack her things?”
“Pack? Yes, carefully.”
“Put them outside?”
The Attorney looked at him.
“For how long?”
“She said she’ll return Friday.”
“You know that?”
“She messaged.”
“Then if you’re placing belongings on a covered porch shortly before she arrives, documenting condition, and not exposing valuables to weather, we can discuss how to handle the transition responsibly.”
The Husband nodded.
“Locks?”
“Don’t improvise.”
“Fine.”
His friend leaned back.
“Are you trying to make a point or end a marriage?”
The question irritated him.
Then he realized why it mattered.
“End it.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because revenge creates expensive clients.”
The Husband almost smiled.
The Attorney continued.
“Clean decisions are boring.”
“I can do boring.”
“I know.”
“Apparently that’s one of your marital defects.”
The Husband laughed for the first time in days.
Briefly.
His friend smiled.
“There he is.”
Then became serious.