A pause—likely listening to Colin—then: "Ruby is young and talented. Smooth sailing her whole life, never suffered real hardships, so she has a temper. I don't want you two fighting because of me. I'll apologize to her first. You soften your attitude, and we'll consider it closed."
Her voice lowered, but the walls were thin.
"I just don't want you suffering," she murmured. "He doesn't know what's good for him…"
Through the crack in the door, I saw Colin place a hand over her lips. His eyes held a cloying, sticky affection that made bile rise in my throat.
"Hush," he said softly. "I know how hard it is for you. I can handle a little unfairness. It's nothing."
That was it.
The last shreds of hope disintegrated. I closed my eyes, letting the anger burn away my remaining hesitation.
When I opened them, I was calm. I walked out.
They sprang apart in panic, but I didn't care. I looked at my wife expressionlessly.
"Claire. I can't live with you anymore."
I didn't blink. "Pick a day. Let's get a divorce."
Claire froze. She stared at me, then took a deep breath and turned to the man beside her. "Colin, you can't fix this. Go home."