The 30-Day Closing Chapter 2

By the time Mark finished his call, I had finished my dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and was sitting on the couch watching a show, acting as if nothing had happened.

He went to take a shower. A few minutes later, his voice, automatic and familiar, called out from the bathroom. “Clara, hon? Where are my towels?”

I didn’t turn around. “They’re packed. You can use one of mine if you want. I’ll throw it out after you leave.”

The silence that followed was long and heavy.

When he came out, he finally saw the three suitcases by the front door. He sat on the chair opposite me and nudged the separation agreement on the coffee table.

“The child support,” he started, “I can give you a million and a half now, and the rest in monthly install…”

I cut him off. “No. One lump sum. A clean break. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to have any reason to stay in contact with me.”

A flash of frustration crossed his face. “Leo is my son, too, Clara. I have a right to be a part of his life. I know this is my fault, and I’m willing to compensate you, but you don’t get to use our son as a weapon.”

I paused my show and looked at him, really looked at him.

“The affair is your fault. Paying for the life you’re abandoning is your responsibility. Given your net worth, the house and cars are a drop in the bucket. As for Leo, I’ve been his primary caregiver since the day he was born. He’s a sensitive kid who needs consistency. How much time, exactly, will you have for him while you’re in the honeymoon phase of your new relationship? Being a father is about more than just money. It’s about time and attention.”

He was speechless. Finally, he said, “I’m not paying three million dollars to be cut out of my son’s life.”

I flipped a page of the agreement. “The three million is for alimony and child support. If you want to contribute to his life in other ways, you’re welcome to deposit money into a separate college fund I’ll set up for him.”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Wow, Clara. I never knew you were so obsessed with money. It’s all you’re talking about.”

“What else is there to talk about?” I asked quietly. “Is loving you a better option right now?”

That shut him up. His face hardened. He picked up a pen and signed the papers with a sharp, angry stroke, then told me we’d file them at the courthouse tomorrow. He called his driver, and a few minutes later, he was gone.

I finished my show and went to bed.

The next morning, Leo ran out of his room and hugged me, chattering excitedly about a happy dream he’d had. Listening to him, I gently tested the waters, telling him that Daddy’s work was very busy, and he might have to go on a long business trip.

In the past, he would have pouted and demanded to call Mark. This time, he just pursed his lips and said, “Oh. That’s okay. As long as I have you, Mommy.”

That’s when I broke. Tears streamed down my face. I ran to the bathroom to compose myself. The deepest pain of this divorce wasn’t my own heartbreak; it was the guilt of taking away my son’s chance at a complete family. But I knew, deep down, this wasn’t my fault.

After I dropped Leo off at school, Mark and I met at the courthouse and filed the papers. There was a mandatory 30-day waiting period. After that, we’d be officially divorced.

Back in my car, I circled the date on my calendar.

Divorce countdown: 30 days.