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Kay's husband has to go home, but she doesn't.

They had redone the kitchen, what, three years ago now? He had gotten three bids and taken them to the office to decide. He was going to pull credit and whatnot on the contractors. One clearly had a better record and he called his wife to tell her he had settled on a bid.

'Too late." She had said. And then rather than name Whitehall Building, Summit, or even Black Sheep Remodeling she told him. "I already called Randy. He said he would start next Thursday or Friday." When he thought about it, he had called the other two contractors; she was the one that had insisted Randy get a chance to bid. Randy hadn't even known how to put together a bid. He had given Carter a yellow piece of paper out of a pad that he had made noted on. He had written Bid on the top and had affixed a business card to the bottom with electrical tape.

Carter only drove by the house. When he saw the white Chevy pickup in the drive he had just let the car roll on past the house. At her school, Tiny had left the top down on her bug. He put the flowers in the drivers seat. He mulled the logic of driving an hour back to the office to sit for an hour and then drive an hour home but he had no desire to get home now, not early anyway, and he pointed the large car at the Interstate.

Audrey was at the front desk when he entered the offices. Chrissy had to be at lunch still. It was Valentines Day after all; her lunch probably went better than his.

"Are you okay?" Audrey asked as he entered. He would have been curious how she could tell except that she could always tell.

"Do I have anything this afternoon?" he asked. It was easier than checking his calendar and more accurate.

"You had a commodities review but I moved it to tomorrow morning."

"Thank you." He said.

"There is a letter. I don't think she knew to mark it personal."

He understood more quickly than he should have. Audrey's comment hadn't been specific but who else could "She" be today and why else should it have been marked personal. "She mailed it?"

"Courier."

He nodded.

Alone in his office he restarted the Fleetwood Mac album but this time turned it on quietly. It was a subtle soundtrack to the next few minutes. He felt separated from himself anyway, as though he were watching a film. He wondered who might play him. He liked to think of it as a George Clooney vehicle.

He took off his tie as he settled into his desk. He wouldn't be working much more today.

"Dear Carter," it began. It had been done on her computer. It was on her company letterhead. She should have hand written it. He would have written it out by hand. He would have taken several drafts to make sure it was worded properly. He would have probably had to rewrite it one last time just to make sure his handwriting was legible. That was how it should have been done. Instead, dated two days previous, his Dear John letter began Dead Carter.

"We have been pretending to be married too long. I think we both moved on some time ago. I'm sure you suspected something was going on the same way I did. I hope you will be happy in your new life."

He wondered whom she suspected he was having an affair with. He presumed she meant Aabharana and felt a spiteful regret that he had not given into her already.

"I know you are quite wealthy but I am not interested in that. I never was. I hope your money can keep you warm as you grow old. I don't want you to think that means I don't want a fair settlement. I hired a lawyer to take care of that. She will need you to send her the retainer. I suspect you can have your girl take care of that for you." She had never understood money. She didn't understand what he did or why he did it. She didn't care. That was really all it was about. She suspected Randy could burn through whatever he paid her.

"As for the children, I suspect you will be fair and reasonable. You may never have loved me but I know you love them. I don't hate you, I know I can trust you to be fair with them." He appreciated that she recognized some good in him.

"I would take them with me now, or fight for them in the

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