"It just doesn't feel right. Rather than torturing each other, it's better to end things early."
Matriarch Farley studied me for a long time. Something moved behind her eyes that I couldn't read.
"You're certain you've thought this through?" she said at last.
"I have."
"Very well. Since you've—"
The conservatory door flew open before she could finish.
"Rose."
Sylvester stood in the doorway, his face white as paper.
"You really want a divorce?"
I hadn't expected him to be here.
I turned and saw him silhouetted against the light. He was still wearing yesterday's shirt, rumpled and creased, nothing like the polished figure he usually cut. His eyes were threaded with red veins. He clearly hadn't slept.
"Yes. I've made up my mind."
I turned back to face Matriarch Farley.
Sylvester walked into the conservatory and stopped in front of me, his voice pressed low.
"Why? Where did I fall short?"
"Or was there someone in that flock of nobodies last night who suits you better than I do?"
The corner of my mouth twitched. I looked away from him.
"It has nothing to do with them. This is my problem. We were wrong from the start. The sooner we separate, the better it is for both of us."