I stopped stirring the sauce. I turned around and leaned against the counter.

“What’s the rush, Greg?” I asked.

“I told you, the interest rates are going up next week,” he said, his voice getting that sharp, impatient edge he always gets when I ask too many questions. “Just sign them.

Don’t make a big deal out of this. I’m trying to secure our future.”

“Our future?” I said. I walked over to the island. I picked up the silver pocket watch. It was ticking quietly in my hand. “Or your future in Sarasota?”

He froze. His hand stayed on his tie. He turned his head slowly to look at me, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to sound amused. “What is Sarasota?”

“It’s where Clara wants to live, isn’t it?” I said. I set the pocket watch down on top of the manila envelope. “The thirty-four-year-old nurse? The one who is going to help you move on from your dead wife?”

His face went completely pale. I have never seen a man’s features lose color so fast. He looked at the envelope, then at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Diane, I… that’s… you’re being ridiculous,” he stammered, stepping back. “That was just… it’s a joke. A guy at the club set that up as a prank. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“The notary isn’t coming tomorrow, Greg,” I said. I picked up my phone from the counter. “And neither are you. Your bags are already in the trunk of your car. I had my cousin Bobby come over and pack them while you were at work.”

“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice rising, the calm facade finally cracking. “This is my house too! I’ve paid the taxes on this place for twenty years!”
“Actually, you haven’t,” I said. “You paid them from our joint account, which was funded mostly by my inheritance.

And as of three o’clock today, that account is closed. The trust attorney has already notified the bank that any attempt to secure a loan against this property is fraudulent.”

He looked like he wanted to scream, but there was nobody to scream at. He was completely alone in my kitchen.