The Prenup: a love story

being surrounded by items with a story reminded her that we’re all the same. That we’re all just people, regardless of what decade we’re born in.

Instead of apologizing or backing down, he only looks angrier. “It got so old that you deliberately broke the prenup? You were so desperate to get away from me that you couldn’t have survived two more weeks?”

“Not you!” I shout.

“Well, to be fair, I did leave without saying goodbye,” I point out.

“If you left divorce papers and your wedding ring on his kitchen counter, that was definitely a goodbye, babe.”

It came down to this: I don’t need that money.

I do, however, need Colin to be happy. I need it from the very center of my heart.

I’m really glad I’m sitting down, because I feel a little light-headed all of a sudden.

The ring on her fourth finger is massive. I don’t know how I missed it before, but

Colin’s arms wrap all the way around my waist, and my arms lift of their own accord to fold behind his head. He lowers his head slowly until his face is tucked into my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

“Life is short. I just don’t really see the point in wasting any more time than necessary being angry or fearful.”

His expression turns thoughtful. “I’ve noticed that about you. It’s …”

“Weird?” I supply.

“Refreshing,” he counters slowly. “I was going to say it’s refreshin

“I can’t,” he whispers, still close enough that I can feel the rejection.

Yeah, like … maybe we could even double date!” I say brightly.

“With whom?”

“With you and Rebecca!” I say, exasperated.

“And? You and—?”

who’s supposed to be my wife. You are my wife.”

The words cause an ache deep inside of me, but I force a bright smile. “Good! That’s good. That tone’s exactly what you should use in front of Gordon Price.”