“You blubbered.” She picked at something on her cup, avoiding his eyes.

“I was emotional, yes.” He felt like a door had opened, yet this whole conversation felt like a trap. “Look, don’t you want to start over?”

“With you?” She seemed horrified at the question.

“No,” he said, a little too quickly.

She placed the mug on the counter and folded her arms in front of her. It was a power stance. “I do want to start over in this house. Tell me. Would you really take it from me?”

“Oh Jesus, Marla.” He perched on a counter stool and noticed that her eyebrow was raised a little, like he shouldn’t be making himself at home in a house he was still paying for.

“Well? Would you?”

“No, but I’d love for you to buy me out, just like our divorce agreement said you’d do.”

“I can’t do that yet. Business isn’t that good right now. I just need a little more time.”

“You keep saying that. How much more time?”

She looked like she’d been slapped.

He sighed. “We’ll talk about it later.” But it was always the same. She wanted the house. Solely. It was to be divided, but she kept stalling on repairs so it couldn’t be listed and now she was saying she was strapped, but from the look of the plants she was buying he wasn’t sure that was the case. He supposed that he could push the issue, but given the public nature of his job, he hadn’t wanted to do that. And she was banking on his silence.

“I have to go.”

“You just got here.” Marla’s expression was unreadable. Over the years, he’d found that he could never predict what she’d do. She was always cold, aloof, a stranger. Truth was, they’d jumped into a quick marriage and both felt compelled to make it work when it had become clear that they were different people. He was shocked that it had lasted ten years.

“Jesus, Marla.” He lowered his voice, not sure why. “I’m ready to move on.”

“So I see—the entire town sees.” Her voice was cool. “Lara Barnes. Interesting choice—a little young for you. But then you do love a damsel in distress.”

He turned and waved goodbye to her, knowing that she was still leaning against the counter feeling victorious that she’d driven him out—again.