Gerald came home that evening later than usual.
I heard the front door close.
Then his footsteps moved through the hallway.
I was sitting in the living room.
He stopped when he saw me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
He looked toward the stairs.
Then he looked at me again.
"You're still here."
I put down the book I had been holding.
"Yes."
He seemed almost offended by the answer.
"I thought you would have made a decision by now."
"I have."
He waited.
I didn't explain immediately.
He placed his keys on the table.
"Well?"
"I'm not signing the settlement."
His expression tightened.
"Teresa, this is getting ridiculous."
I looked at him.
"You've said that before."
"Because you keep refusing to understand."
I shook my head.
"I understand what you want."
He pulled out a chair.
For the first time since the dinner announcement, he sat down across from me without immediately reaching for his phone or looking toward the door.
I watched him.
He looked tired.
There were lines around his eyes that hadn't seemed so noticeable when we were younger.
I remembered those eyes looking at me from the other side of our first little office.
I remembered him smiling when we finally had enough money to move into a proper building.
I remembered the man who used to bring me coffee.
I wondered when I had stopped recognizing him.
"Gerald, why did you think I would sign everything without asking questions?"
He rubbed his hands together.
"Because I thought we could handle this sensibly."
"Sensibly for whom?"
He looked at me.
"For both of us."
I waited.
He didn't say anything else.
I leaned back.
"You gave me forty-eight hours."
"I gave you a reasonable amount of time."
I looked at him.
"To leave a home I've lived in for decades?"
He sighed.
"Don't start again."
I almost smiled.
There it was.
The same instruction.
Don't make it difficult.
Don't start again.
Don't bring up the past.
It seemed there were many things I wasn't supposed to do.
I was supposed to accept.
That was all.
"Gerald, I remember the Friday afternoon."
He looked down.
"Please."
"I remember the lawyer's office."
He didn't answer.
"I remember the blue binder."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"And I remember you and Walter signing the papers."
He finally looked at me.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
I spoke quietly.
"I'm trying to make sure you remember what you agreed to."
He stared at me.
For several seconds, I could hear nothing but the clock.
Then he stood.
"You're not going to get anywhere by bringing up old business."
I looked at him.
"It wasn't old business when you needed my help."
He didn't respond.
He walked toward the hallway.
I remained seated.
I didn't call after him.
I didn't need to.
The brown envelope was still unsigned except for the acknowledgment.
And the blue binder remained the one thing neither man could convince me to forget.
Click here to continue reading: PART 18: The Brown Envelope Finally Looked Different to Me, Because I Realized Gerald Had Mistaken My Silence for Agreement
The Dinner I Thought Was Ordinary Until My Husband Put Down His Knife and Changed Everything
Part 17 of 20
