For the first time in forty-seven years, Richard had no administrative workaround. He couldn’t file away his behavior. I don’t know what the legal repercussions will be for him. The authorities are handling it now.

But I do know what the personal repercussions are. I am still sleeping in the guest room.

The house is painfully quiet. I haven’t contacted a divorce attorney yet, mostly because the logistics of untangling a half-century of shared life feel insurmountable right now. But the marriage as I knew it is over. It died the moment I recognized the pen pressure on that screen.

He thought he was just casting an extra vote. He didn’t realize he was signing the death warrant of our marriage.