I had often mistaken keeping the peace for keeping a marriage strong.
I was finished doing that.
“Did you forge my signature?” I asked.
He looked away.
“I didn’t think it would become a problem.”
The answer struck me harder than a denial would have.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He rubbed his face.
“I was going to explain everything once the money came through.”
“Did you sign my name?”
He was silent.
I opened the front door wider.
“You need to leave.”
“Margaret, please.”
“No.”
“We’ve been married for forty-two years.”
“Yes, Robert. We have.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t throw that away.”
I stared at him.
“You are the one who threw it away. I am simply refusing to pretend I can put it back together by myself.”
He stood there for several seconds.
Then he walked out.
I watched him get into his car.
I didn’t cry until he had driven away.
