“You want me to pull over so you can get out and talk in private?”
“No. No, it’s okay.”
“What the hell, Jess?” Zack says the moment I answer.
I draw in a steadying breath. “I guess this means you were served.”
“At my office? Are youkiddingme?”
I feel a twinge. I knew that would embarrass him, but it was the only address where I could be certain that the server would find him. “Does it look like a joke?” It’s a stupid comment, but it’s all I can think of to say.
“No, damn it. There’s nothing freakin’ funny about it. When did you have all this prepared?”
“I told you it wasn’t a hasty decision.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d already had the fucking papers drawn up!”
The f-bomb jars me. Not because I’m sensitive to bad language, but because I can count on one hand the number of occasions I’ve heard Zack use it the entire time I’ve known him. “I didn’t,” I say. “But I consulted an attorney before my last trip back to New Orleans. I wanted to know all my options.”
“Must have been one hell of a consult.”
“He emailed me the paperwork in case I decided to file. I filled it out on the plane last night and sent it to him. All he had to do was drop the info onto boilerplate divorce papers.”
This must placate him, because Zack is silent for a moment. I hear him breathe. I can picture how he looks right now—his dark eyebrows scrunched in a scowl, his lips pressed together, his eyes blue-hot with hurt and anger. My heart aches.
“I told him to draw up an even split of things, taking into consideration what each of us brought into the marriage. Look through the papers and see if you think it’s fair.”
“Oh, I’ll go over it, all right. Rest assured of that.” Silence beats through the phone, then his tone softens. “So you’re sure about this, Jess? You don’t want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”
“I guess not. I suppose these papers say it all.”
Tears pool in my eyes. He’s waiting for me to say something, but I’ve got nothing.
This—this right here—is why I filed. This distance, this silence. The divorce is as much about that as it is about Lily and the baby and Quinn. I can talk to Brett and my sister—hell, even my mother, with all of her heavy expectations of me—more easily than I can talk to Zack.
“Well, I’ll be in touch,” he says.
“Okay.”
“Okay. Bye.”
He hangs up before I can say another word.
“Are you all right?” Brett asks.
“Yeah.” I wipe my eyes. “It’s just hard.”
“It’s supposed to be.”
I look at him. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
“It’s not for me to say.”
“There was no point in dragging it out,” I say. “I didn’t want him to quit his job and move out here just for me when he really wants to be in Louisiana.”
“True.” He glances at me. “That’s definitely a consideration.” He pulls into the parking lot of the dealership. “I haven’t heard you say anything about love.”
