“How much?”

Marina blinked. She hadn’t expected him to cave so easily. Which meant something was up. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re not thinking of marrying that twit, are you?” she asked.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Given that you’re currently married to me, I’d say it’s definitely my business.”

“I’m not marrying her. But she needs a medical procedure and it’s going to be expensive. I might not have the cash to give you.”

“Your firm carries insurance. If she needs legitimate medical help, she’s covered. So what nonsense have you agreed to—vacation to France, luxury car, boob job?”

His eyes flickered down on the last one and she gasped.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Marina yelled. “You’re trying to weasel out of giving me money I damn well deserve because that hooker you took up with wants new boobs? Here’s a news bulletin—I don’t give a damn what she wants. I only care about what I’m due. Twenty thousand for the house, and that’s a bargain. And half of your retirement account. I already transferred my half of the money in the bank into my holiday savings account last night.”

He stared. “You’ve lost your mind. I don’t have twenty thousand dollars.”

“Sure you do. You can borrow against this house that you’re so proud to keep. But you should double that loan amount. Chastity might need a vagina replacement soon. God knows hers has a lot of miles on it.”

She shoved Harold out of the way and headed for the master bedroom. No longer her bedroom.

“I need to pack!” she yelled. “I expect you to give me two days. If you see my car here, I expect you to keep driving. If I show up here, I expect you to leave until I’m gone. Understand?”

The front door slamming was the only reply.

She walked into the bedroom and slumped down onto the bed as all the strength and energy drained completely out of her. Putting her hands over her face, she started to sob. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? She was forty-eight years old and what did she have to show for her life? She wouldn’t take anything from the house except her personal belongings. A lot of the furniture had come with the house, and the rest was well worn, and she’d never liked it much anyway. Besides, given that she had exactly no place to live, she couldn’t fill up a U-Haul and head out.

This was it. A couple boxes of clothes, some books, pictures, and toiletries.

Her entire life would fit in the trunk of her car.

She brushed the tears from her face and rose from the bed. It was pointless to sit here feeling sorry for herself. Especially here, where she could see the edge of the sapphire-blue nightie peeking out from under the bed. There would be plenty of time to wallow in her failure later. When she and her paltry collection of belongings had a place to live.