Marcus had booked a weekend trip to Reno. Two tickets. His name and Isabella’s.
When I confronted him, he didn’t deny it. He leaned against the wall and said, “Clara, don’t turn this into a scene. We’ve grown apart. Isabella understands me. And if she’s the one with the inheritance, it makes sense to… realign our lives.”
On the counter sat a manila envelope. Divorce papers. Already signed by him.
Isabella stopped answering my calls. My mother cried quietly in the guest room. Dr. Fischer scheduled the formal will reading for Monday, and I hoped the setting would force some civility.
It didn’t.
When I walked into the conference room, I froze. Marcus sat beside Isabella, his hand resting on her finger—now wearing a fresh diamond ring. Dr. Fischer cleared his throat. “Before we proceed, there’s a matter of marital status.”
He looked at Isabella. “You indicated you planned to marry Mr. Keller this weekend?”
She lifted her chin. “We already did. Nevada. Sunday.”
Marcus smiled like he’d won.
Dr. Fischer slid several documents across the table. “Then we have a problem. Mr. Keller is still legally married to Clara.”
Marcus scoffed. “We’re separated.”