“I am. But should I first say congratulations?” She tried not to choke on the word. She didn’t want to make it seem like she’d been trolling his Instagram, so she added, “The kids told me. I should probably take this moment to remind you, though, that I haven’t signed anything to make the divorce official.”

“Ah, yes. My attorney says the papers should be on your doorstep Monday, at the latest.”

“Oh. Well, I won’t be here. Did you think at all you might be jumping the gun by announcing the engagement before all the i’s were dotted?”

He laughed in that goofy way that made it hard to hate him. “I agree. But Tilly always wanted a summer wedding. And her parents have this whole plan for August. The whole nine yards. Half the state will be there.”

But I won’t. Thank God. “I see. That sounds lovely. But I seem to remember you wanting a small wedding, which was why you and I got married upstate.”

He chuckled. “Well, I figure, you only live once. Lily told me about the big trip. Are you sure that’s wise, love?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And is it true you quit your job?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You loved that job.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And Lily says you told her to find some strangers to rent out the house. You loved that place like it was one of your kids, you know. None of this is like you.”

“Evan, we haven’t been living under the same roof for over a year. Before then, you were the one who said we were acting like roommates, that we’d lost our connection,” she said with a sigh. “I thought you’d understand . . . you don’t know what I’m like at all.”

“Perhaps that’s true. And I’m sorry about that.”

Was that pity in his voice? “I’m not. I agree with that. And the feeling’s mutual. Until your Instagram post, I thought Vi—I mean, Tilda—was just a whim. I hadn’t realized it was serious.”

“Yes. Well, that’s like me, isn’t it? But it’s not you. And I do know that you’re not the type to go off on whims,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s always been my department. Love, you needed a schedule just to do your Christmas shopping. Didn’t you? You’d be lost without that planner of yours.”

She frowned. “Well—”

“And all those lovely beach vacations we took, remember, to Haiti? The ones where we could just go with the flow? You had an agenda. Disney was a death march. Admit it.”

Her frown deepened. She’d thought they’d had fun, though it was a little hectic, but apparently, no one else in the family had. He’d never complained about it before. In fact, he’d praised her for being so organized and allowing them to see and do as much as possible on their vacation. So what if it wasn’t relaxing? Where was this hostility coming from?