Sarah takes a small breath and approaches the table, her black heels clicking along the floor. Everything she does is with purpose. She is trying to hold it all together. She sets her bag down on the table and pulls out her chair slowly. With complete composure, she takes a seat. She runs one hand over her hair and takes another small breath. Her eyes are the same eyes I’ve always looked at, but she’s looking at me as if she doesn’t know me. Her gaze dances around me. She’s assessing me, questioning me. She’s treating me like I’m… a client.

“Sarah.” There’s a little aggression in my voice. I don’t mean it, but I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. How can she even question that I would do something like this? How can she act like she doesn’t know who I am? I’m her husband.

She pulls out a notepad and a pen. She sets them on the table, neatly, parallel to one another. She places her hands on her lap and looks directly at me. “Adam.” She pauses. She’s choosing her words with care, and I don’t know why she can’t just talk to me.

“Sarah. I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill her, I swear it. I couldn’t do it. I was sleeping with her, but I would never hurt her—you have to believe me,” I plead while fighting back tears.

She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t react. “Okay.” She jots down a couple of words. Her eyes well up. She swallows hard. She’s so strong, and I’m the one breaking her. I’m supposed to be the one protecting her. Her chest rises and falls.

“Sarah, I love you. I love you so fucking much. I just want this to be over. I want things to go back to the way they were. I want to start a family with you. I want to be with you and only you. I’m an idiot, and I should never have cheated. I know that, and I promise I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you—just as soon as this is all over. I swear to fucking God.” I grab her hand wanting her to show me some sort of emotion, wanting her to love me, wanting her to yell at me or hit me or something. I need her to be mad at me. I need her to cry. I need her to tell me she loves me. I need her to hold me. I need her to tell me everything is going to be okay.

She pauses. Her hand is warm, but her eyes are cold. She’s hurting, and I don’t blame her. She pulls her hand away. “Adam, I need you to understand, I am here as your lawyer, not your wife.”