Day 14 hit like an alarm I’d set in another life.
Calendar: Coffee, not corners.
I told Elijah at lunch. “I’m meeting someone at four.” Old mess. I need to keep it clean.
He held my eyes, not flinching. “Do what you need.” "I’ll be around later if you want a company that doesn’t ask for a monologue."
“God, yes,” I said. “No monologs.”
I picked the least romantic café in a five-block radius. Fluorescents. Sturdy chairs. A menu that thinks foam art is a crime. I got there early and took the table by the bus bin on purpose.
He arrived on time. Javier looked lighter and older at the same time. No ring. No tie. He put an envelope on the table and didn’t push it toward me.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He waited for the server to leave. “Divorce is final.” He tapped the envelope once. “Filed. St
