"You're really going to leave me with nothing?" she asked. I shook my head.
"No, Erica. You left with the things you chose and the settlement we negotiated. I just stopped adding myself to it." The words sounded stern, but I did not say them to wound her. I needed them to be clear enough that I would not have to keep repeating them in softer and less honest forms.
She looked over my shoulder toward the front office. Through the windows she could see Lauren talking to Denise beside the muffin tray, laughing at something Ray had said. "Who is she?" Erica asked.
I answered truthfully that she was a customer whose father's old fishing boat we had repaired. Erica studied me for a moment. "And more?" she asked.
"Maybe someday," I said. It was an honest answer. Lauren and I were still getting to know one another, and I had no intention of making promises that would be unfair to either of us. Erica looked away, and I could see the answer hurt her more than the reference to money. Not because Lauren was glamorous or triumphant, but because she stood comfortably inside a place Erica had once regarded as an inconvenience, bringing homemade food to people who worked with their hands and seeming happy to be there.
"She seems nice," Erica said after a while. I told her she was. The breeze lifted a strand of Erica's hair, and for one strange second she looked like the woman I had married, young and hopeful at the edge of the Southport waterfront. I almost reached out to smooth the hair away from her face. Then I remembered that there were gestures we no longer belonged to each other enough to make.
"I am sorry, Mark," she said. She did not add a qualification or explain why the apology should change my decision. I appreciated that. I told her I was sorry for the ways we had failed to talk honestly before things became so broken. Then I said I hoped she would rebuild her life into something she was proud to pay for herself, whether or not anyone else thought it looked impressive.
Erica nodded. She looked back toward the renovated office one more time, then walked across the lot to a small car parked near the entrance. There was no shouting, no speech, and no new scene for the marina employees to remember. I stood at the end of the dock until she had driven away, letting the quiet settle around me. For once, I did not feel that there was an argument I had failed to win.