“I’ll see you at the bank tomorrow morning at nine,” I said, turning back to the stove. “Martin will be there with the divorce papers. You can explain to the branch manager why you tried to sign my name on the preliminary application last Friday.

Yes, Greg. I have the IP address logs from your office computer.”

He stood there for another minute, his chest heaving, his hands balled into fists. But he knew he was beat. He grabbed his briefcase, snatched his coat off the chair, and walked out into the rain. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind him, shaking the glass panes.

The next morning, the sun was bright and hot, drying up all the puddles from the storm. I sat in the glass-walled office of the bank manager, Arthur, who had gone to high school with my older brother. Martin sat next to me, his leather briefcase open on his knees.

Greg walked in at exactly 9:05 AM. He had tried to put on a fresh suit, but his shirt was wrinkled and he had missed a spot shaving on his jaw. He looked small.

Arthur didn’t offer to shake his hand. He just pointed to the chair across from us.

“Greg,” Arthur said, his voice stern and professional. “We’ve reviewed the documents you submitted online last week. Since the property is held in a sole-survivorship family trust under Diane’s name, your application for a home equity line of credit has been denied. Furthermore, the bank will be flagging this file for potential identity fraud due to the digital signature discrepancies.”

Greg looked at the desk. He didn’t even try to defend himself.

Martin slid a blue folder across the mahogany table. It clinked against the glass top.

“These are the dissolution papers, Greg,” Martin said. “We’re asking for the division of your personal retirement accounts, and you will have thirty days to remove the remainder of your personal belongings from the property.

Diane is keeping the house. There will be no negotiation on this.”

Greg looked up at me. His eyes were red-rimmed.

“Diane, please,” he whispered. “Twenty-six years. You’re going to throw it all away over some stupid messages on the internet?”