I grabbed the wall to steady myself.
Forty-five years.
Two children.
An entire lifetime together.
And now he was planning to throw me out of the home for which I had sacrificed my youth.
That evening, he came into the living room and ordered, as usual:
“Margaret, bring me some coffee.”
I brought it.
He didn’t even look at me.
“You forgot the sugar, you useless old woman!”
I smiled.
“I’m sorry, Robert. I’ll be more careful tomorrow.”
He didn’t notice that my hands were no longer trembling.
Because I’d already decided exactly what gift I was going to give him on our anniversary.
The following morning, I visited our family’s longtime lawyer, Mr. Harris.
He seemed surprised to see me.
“Margaret, has something happened?”
I placed an old leather folder on his desk.
“Please check these documents.”
He began reading.
A few minutes later, he removed his glasses.
