The fifth letter came two days later addressed to both of us. I opened it standing at the mailbox. The words were short and final. The bank had begun foreclosure proceedings on Patricia’s property. I carried it inside and set it on the counter.

Mark read it without speaking. When he finished he looked at me the way a man looks at someone he has finally stopped underestimating.

I didn’t smile. There was no victory in it, only the clean cold fact of what she had forced me to do. The phone rang again with Patricia’s name on the screen. I let it ring until it stopped. Then I picked up the letter, folded it once, and filed it in the drawer where I keep every document that matters.