ture on the tablet to the Ziploc bag on my bed. The smiling family at the ice cream parlor and

ling calm settled over me. The pain was so imm

l and precise. I took my clothes, my toiletries, my important documents. I left everything he had e

Carolina divorce petition," downloaded the official form, and filled it ou

ed two

copy of the divorce petition squarely in the middle of the dining room table, rig

e an address on the front: Head of the North Carolina Youth Soccer League. Inside, with the thong, I includ

sleeping with my husband. The evidence is in the

it, and left it by the front door to

ad loved. It was a crime scene now, and I couldn't stand to be in it for

maiden name, and locked the door behind me. The anonymity of the r

se, trying to lose myself in lesson plans. My phone started r

d again. On the fif

s gone! There's a divorce petition on the table! Is this some k

att," I said, my vo

I got a new vase? I told you it was

talk about her stuff being in our house.

anger was gone, replaced

me soft, pleading. The voice he

ake. It meant nothing. Please, don't throw away sixteen years over

en you brought that woman into our bed. And don't you dare use our daughter again

tand," he stammered

uff out of the house before I got home," I shot back.

lence. He

w, Matt. My lawyer

ds were shaking, but I felt a grim sense of sat