“You left.”
Vivian laughed once.
Disbelieving.
“You seriously packed my things because I took eleven days?”
Ethan nodded toward the coffee table.
“Read.”
She looked.
Saw the folder.
Her shoulders tightened.
“What is that?”
“Information.”
“Don’t be cute.”
“I’m not.”
Vivian stepped toward the table.
Her heels made quiet sounds against the wood floor.
She picked up the first page.
Her face changed immediately.
PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
She stared.
Then looked at him.
“You filed.”
“Yes.”
“You had me served.”
“Yes.”
“At my hotel.”
“Yes.”
Her cheeks flushed.
“You humiliated me.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“Your husband filing divorce paperwork at the hotel you moved into is humiliation?”
“You could have called.”
“You asked for space.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Her fingers tightened around the page.
“You’re really doing this.”
“I told you before you left.”
“You were emotional.”
“I was accurate.”
Vivian threw the first page onto the table.
“This is insane.”
“Read the second.”
She stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because apparently you believed divorce changed the facts of the house.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Then she picked up the next document.
The postnuptial agreement.
Property schedule.
Hale residence listed as Ethan’s separate property, inherited, with specified reimbursement treatment for marital improvements.
Vivian read.
Her face paled.
“You think this means you can throw me out.”
“No.”
“I know better than that.”
“Then why is this here?”
“Because you told your attorney you intended to claim the house as jointly titled.”
“I said it is our home.”
“That’s different.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“No.”
“If I were enjoying it, this would be easier.”
Vivian looked back at the document.
“You can’t just erase twelve years.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“That’s exactly what this house looks like.”
She gestured toward the blank walls.
“You removed me.”
“I removed photographs.”
“You moved my clothes.”
“Carefully.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Her voice sharpened.
“How generous.”
She threw the document back down.
“What exactly do you want?”
“I want the divorce to proceed.”
“And if I don’t?”
“It still proceeds.”
“You sound like your lawyer.”
“I’ve spoken to her a lot.”
Vivian stared.
Then something in her expression changed.
Confidence returned slightly.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t end twelve years in eleven days.”
“No.”
Ethan stepped closer.