Solene:
He doesn’t move at first.
Just stands there like I’ve spoken in another language. Like the word didn’t land where it was supposed to.
“A divorce?” he repeats, quieter this time.
“Yes.”
I expect anger. Sharpness. Something loud enough to make this feel real.
What I get is worse.
He laughs. Once. Breathless. Like his body rejected the sentence.
“No,” he says. “You don’t mean that.”
I don’t respond.
“You’re overwhelmed,” he continues, stepping closer. “Anyone would be. The press, my father, Celeste. This isn’t the time to make decisions.”
“I didn’t make it today.”
That stops him.
He searches my face like there might still be an exit hidden somewhere. Like if he looks hard enough, I’ll flinch. Retract it.
“When?” he asks.
I think about it. About all the moments that led
