“Bro,” Emily looked concerned, “is she running a fever?”
“I don’t think so,” I muttered.
Theo crossed his arms.
“This feels like a trap,” he said thoughtfully.
Vani just smiled. “I assure you it isn’t,” she said lightly.
My mom cleared her throat, drawing attention back to herself.
“You guys are being overly dramatic,” she said, looking at me. “Callahan. May I have a moment alone with you?”
My immediate thought was to refuse, given how weird everything was. Instead, I glanced at Vani. She appeared completely focused on Emily and Theo, listening as Emily continued questioning her sudden personality shift. But even though her attention seemed elsewhere, I knew her well enough to notice the slight tension in her shoulders.
But before I could move far, Vani leaned closer to me. Her movement was subtle enough that no one else noticed. She lowered her voice just enough that only I could hear. “Tell your mom you want a divorce.”
I froze.
“What?” I whispered, turning slightly toward her.
“And tell her we don’t have a prenup,” she added calmly.
I stared at her. Her expression remained completely neutral, her attention seemingly still on Emily, who was now asking her if she had recently hit her head. I opened my mouth to question her, but before I could say anything—
“Callahan,” my mother called again.
I looked up. She was already standing near the doorway, waiting for me. I glanced back at Vani. She still hadn’t looked directly at me, but there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. I had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but I also knew she wouldn't ask me to say this without a reason.
Still confused, I stepped away and followed my mother. As soon as we were alone, she turned to face me.
“I’m glad your wife is finally seeing reason,” she said immediately. I rubbed the back of my neck, still trying to process the conversation that just happened.
“Yeah,” I said distractedly, hesitating for half a second before deciding to follow through with Vani's instructions.
“I want a divorce,” I said.
Her expression shifted instantly from pleased to confused. “What?”
“I want a divorce,” I repeated.
“After she just admitted I was right?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Because the marriage isn’t working.”
That part, at least, wasn’t a complete lie. It wasn't working; it was going perfectly.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “After all that talk about wanting to be with her, now you want a divorce. That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But that’s where we are.”
She studied me carefully, suspicion creeping into her expression. Then she asked the question I had been waiting for. “There is a prenuptial agreement, correct?”
Right on cue.
