“What a day,” Mom says.

Oliver’s eyes fix on something over my shoulder and I turn around. It’s Abigail. She’s alone.

Oliver clears his throat.

“I think I’ll leave you ladies alone,” he says, standing up. “It looks like you might all have some things to talk about.”

Abigail reaches us, hesitant. I don’t know if she really wants to talk to Mom and me right now, but I don’t think she has much hope of getting away from us.

“I’ll check on Sam,” Oliver says, and excuses himself. I feel a wave of gratitude for him as he turns and makes his way to the elevator bank. Abigail swallows, and sits down in the seat he’s vacated. There’s something brittle about the way she does it, like she’s afraid something in her might break.

There’s a moment of silence.

“We’re not going home today,” she says. “It’s too late.” She swallows. “He’s getting a different hotel for tonight.”

I glance at Mom. Abigail takes a breath.

“I told him,” she says finally. “I told him that I wanted a divorce.” She corrects herself. “No: I told him that I was divorcing him. That it was happening. It was—it was horrible.”

“What did he say?” I ask quietly. “Is he really going to try and get sole custody?”

Abigail meets my eyes. Hers seem dazed, a little glassy.

“I don’t know. We didn’t come to any conclusions about anything. It wasn’t really what you might call a talk. He mainly just raged about how selfish I was and always had been; how I was destroying our family.” She draws in a breath. “How Sam would never forgive me for this.”

“Oh, Abigail.”

I reach out and put a hand on her arm.

“You’re brave, Abigail,” Mom says quietly from her chair. “That was very brave.”

Abigail exhales.

“Well, I thought…it’s true what you were saying the other night. No custody situation is going to destroy my relationship with Sam. But staying in this marriage would destroy me. And what can I possibly give to my son if I have nothing left of myself?” She swallows.