“Arianne,” he said softly, like my name was a bruise he wanted to press gently.
I didn’t budge. “What do you want, Zachary?”
“I thought we should talk,” he began. “About Liam. About us.”
“There is nothing to talk about,” I said, voice flat. “Not anymore.”
He looked down, pulled something from his coat. An envelope. He held it out like a peace offering.
“I know you agreed,” he said. “My lawyer was supposed to bring this to you, but I decided to hand it to you in person. Closure.”
I gave a hollow laugh. “That’s rich coming from someone who got caught on national television. You didn’t just ruin a marriage. You made a mockery of it.”
Closure. Such a neat little word for a war that wrecked me. I didn’t reach for the envelope. I reached for the only thing I had left—my dignity. I was about to slam the door in his face when a quiet voice interrupted us.
“Dad?”
I craned my head to look at my son. Liam stood on the staircase in his dinosaur pajamas, rubbing his eyes.
Zach’s expression softened immediately. “Hey, buddy.”
Liam didn’t move. “Why are you here?” he asked flatly.
Zach hesitated for a second and continued. “I came to see how you’re doing. I brought the—”