I served him on a Tuesday. Not because I wanted drama, but because Elena said Tuesday was statistically the day people were most likely to be in their office, and I wanted him to be somewhere contained when it happened.
He called me forty-five seconds after the process server left.
"What is this," he said. Not a question, a statement from a man trying to hold himself together.
"Divorce papers," I said.
"I know what they are, Naomi."
"Then you know what they mean."
"This isn't, you can't just—" He stopped. I could hear him breathing. "You're pregnant. We just found out we're having a baby."
"I know."
"So why are you doing this right now?"
"Because when I asked you if you had feelings for Vivienne, you said it was complicated," I said. "And that's not an answer I can build a marriag
